


Convergence

by spiral_static



Series: Non-Zero Possibility [3]
Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Alters, Amnesia, Angst, Blood Addiction, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Department of Domestic Defence, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Established Relationship, F/M, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Integration Attempts, M/M, Past Drug Use, Polyamory (sort of), Psychopathic Ghosts, Road Trip, Romance, Self-Harm, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vampire Sex, Vampires, identity crisis, vampires in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 222,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiral_static/pseuds/spiral_static
Summary: He gave his life to save the one he loved. He was prepared, he was ready to meet his fate. But fate is a bitch sometimes, and now he is faced with something so much worse than death.





	1. Being Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, and thank you so much for still reading this!
> 
> Just to say I can now be found on Tumblr, so please [come and say hi!](https://secretdiaryofafanficwriter.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also please note that there are _major_ spoilers for Parts 1 and 2 right from the beginning, so please make sure you have finished reading those before starting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie – I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for a very long time. And I'm so, so sorry for what I'm putting Dominic through... part of me just wants to go and give him a big hug and tell him that everything is going to be okay... but then, Hal's already said that, and we all know that it's a lie.
> 
> So without further ado, here goes Chapter 1...

You let the dark in  
Somehow  
I feel the winter more now  
More now

\- Editors, “Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home”

 

_Lub dub… lub dub… lub dub…_

The rhythmic sound resonates inside his head, and he frowns. Have the new neighbours next door turned the music up too loud? But no, it’s not music, is it? Not quite.

The sound seems to be coming closer, and there is something, some part of him, that seems to think this is significant.

Significant how?

_Lub dub… lub dub… lub dub…_

Every muscle in his body tenses like a spring, and his eyes fly open to a blinding onslaught of light and colour, like seeing the world through a kaleidoscope, and he quickly squeezes them shut again.

_Lub dub… lub dub… lub dub lub dub lub dub lub dub…_

The sound is getting louder, and faster, and now there is a strange, itching pressure in his gums, and a sudden, powerful urge inside of him to jump up, to get closer…

Then, a louder, almost deafening noise of metal slamming against metal drills into his head, and he winces. There is a deep sigh, followed by the sound of footsteps thundering along outside, and Tom’s voice, so clear as if he was standing right next to him, “Post’s here!” A short pause, and he takes a deep breath against an unexpected resistance. His throat feels parched as the damp, musty air flows through it. “Aww, sod it, it’s another letter from the landlord. They’re gonna throw us out if we don’t start payin’ up.”

“Let's talk to Hal again, he’ll have to start pulling his weight,” Alex answers, then, quieter, adds, “Especially with… you know who in the cellar.”

“Yeah… I still gotta have a word with ‘im ‘bout that.”

Alex sighs. “Don’t, Tom. The situation is tricky enough without… that.”

The voices start to get fainter as they walk away. “Yeah, I get that, but what he did weren’t okay, Alex. I gotta tell ‘im that.”

“He knows that, Tom,” she replies, and then he loses track of the rest of the conversation as Tom’s footsteps retreat further along the corridor.

He listens out again for any other sounds he can make out, but the rhythmic thumping has disappeared now, and the only other noises he can hear are the faint creaking of the floorboards somewhere above him and the soft sighing of the wind outside. Other than that, it is eerily quiet, and a thought slowly invades his mind.

_There is something missing._

He once again opens his eyes, carefully this time, and is nonetheless almost blinded by the dazzling brightness of the light and the intensity of the colours all around him, dancing off the dirty white walls and ceiling—

_The what?_

—and he blinks once, twice, three times… on the fourth blink, something changes, and he lets out a small sigh of relief when the brightness dims somewhat, and he manages to have a slightly closer look at his surroundings.

His eyes roam along the ceiling and down a wall of white painted bricks, but the paint has chipped and faded, and he knows that he has seen this place before, but somehow his brain isn’t making the connection, and his limbs are heavy and sluggish, and his eyes flutter closed again before he properly gets his bearings.

Fragments of memories float through his mind, and he tries to grab them, to hold onto them, to make sense of them.

_Tom is sitting across from him at the dinner table, an indignant tone in his voice as he says, “We have summers in Wales.”_

_Natasha’s laugh rings through the room, making him smile. He has missed seeing her happy. “Yeah, but they’re rarely hot enough for an outdoor swimming pool.” Her eyes meet his across the table, dancing with mirth, and he can’t help the bright smile that spreads on his lips as he follows her gaze towards Hal._

_The memory fades and changes, and he finds himself standing in the middle of the living room with an armful of Natasha, her hands gripping at his back like she never wants to let him go again._

_“Please be careful, Dominic,” she says, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes._

_“Of course, Tasha,” he replies, his tone cautious, measured, neither dismissive nor defensive._

_“Maybe you can drop by your flat sometime, huh? Mail’s been piling up,” she says then, pulling away and giving him a teasing smile that does a terrible job masking her real meaning._

Come and see me without Hal, _is what she is actually trying to say._

_“I will,” he says, his own smile warm and genuine as he follows her to the front door._

_The memory fades again, and now he is standing in the kitchen, running a tea towel across a dinner plate and stealing surreptitious glances at Hal, at the way his muscles flex under his thin black shirt as he moves the bright blue sponge across the bowl in his hand._

_Then, the floodgates open, and he feels the familiar sensation of blood trickling down the front of his face._

_“Fuck!” he exclaims, bringing a hand up to his nose and staring at the bright red liquid on his fingertips._

_Hal turns around to him just as and a voice starts whispering in his head, “_ Dominic. It’s time.”

No, _he thinks desperately,_ not now. Not today. Everything has been so perfect today, I don’t want—

“Isn’t that the perfect time to go?” _the voice counters, and he knows he has lost. He knows this is it. He hasn’t got any more cards to play._

_“Are you all right?” Hal asks him._

_He looks up at him with a frown on his face, wanting nothing more than to say,_ No, I’m not all right. I’m going to die, Hal, but there is nothing you can do to stop it, so please just move on with your life and be happy.

_But the words don’t come, and all he says instead is, “I’m not sure.”_

_The memory slips away from him, but he knows he has to remember this, he knows this is important, so he grips it tightly before it can fully disappear, holds on to it, and slowly it comes back into focus._

_Hal is hugging him, holding him, asking him to promise he will never hurt himself again. A sob escapes his mouth as he says, “I wish I could promise you that.”_

_He continues rambling for a while, stringing meaningless words together, all the things he always wanted to tell Hal and hasn’t, and then he drifts off as the voice once again whispers in his head, “_ Get a move on, Dominic. We haven’t got all day.”

What do you want me to do? _he asks silently, taking a deep breath and bracing himself for whatever they ask of him._

“See that knife?” _the voice says with a sickening undercurrent of glee, and Dominic’s stomach turns as his gaze lands on the sharp, pointed kitchen knife on the counter in front of him. Tears well up in his eyes, and he fights hard to keep them from spilling over._

_“Dominic?” Hal asks next to him, and he tears his eyes away from the knife, shakes himself and musters up his best smile._

_“I wanted to say that I… I love you, Hal. I love you more than anything in the world, and I always will. And it’s… it’s been a real privilege to know that you… that you felt something for me in return…”_

_Hal’s eyes are big and fearful as he looks back at him and asks, “Dominic, what are you saying?”_

_“I’m sorry,” he replies, averting his eyes as he loses the battle and the tears spill over. “I love you, Hal.” And then, the word that he has come back to say. The only reason he has been granted these last two months. “Goodbye.”_

_The knife barely hurts as it penetrates his skin, and he faintly wonders whether the men are somehow messing with his brain, with his pain receptors, to make sure he doesn’t back down, but what does it matter now? The sharp tip cuts through his intestines like butter, until it rips into something hard and pulsing, and then there is pain exploding inside of him, and blood, so much blood, and white spots start dancing in the periphery of his vision, closing in._

_His legs don’t support him anymore, and he feels himself stumbling backwards and hitting something hard on the way down. His vision is now completely obscured by black and white spots, and there is a whooshing sound in his ears, but through it, he can just about hear Hal’s desperate voice, “Dominic, no! No, no! Stay awake, stay with me, you’re not leaving me, you’re not…”_

I am _, he wants to say,_ I am leaving you Hal, and that’s okay, because there were many before me, and there will be many after, and you will forget me, in time. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.

_But he can’t get the words out, and his eyelids grow heavy, and the black and white spots are replaced by darkness as he finally gives in and…_

He died.

That’s the thing he was missing before, isn’t it?

His right hand comes up and over to find his left wrist, and his fingers brush over smooth scar tissue to press against his pulse point. He lets them linger there for a long moment, and he waits, and he feels… nothing.

This is it then, isn’t it? He is dead.

But if he is dead, then what is he doing here? And where exactly is ‘here’, anyway?

He forces his tired eyes open again and lifts himself up on his elbows, taking in the numerous, deep scratch marks in the wood on the wall opposite, and a frown settles on his face when he finally realises where he is.

‘You know who in the cellar’, Alex had said. Was she talking about… him?

His frown deepens as he heaves himself fully upright and is immediately overcome by a powerful wave of nausea. His stomach feels overfull and empty at the same time, and he lets out a deep groan. The movement of air through his vocal cords aggravates his throat, and, oh, his throat… his throat is so dry. He needs a drink.

But hold on a moment… if he is dead, should he be feeling any of these things at all?

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed—

_Why is there a bed in the cellar? There never used to be a bed in the cellar._

—and sits still for a long moment, his eyes darting down to his hands lying in his lap. His skin looks so pale, paler than he has ever seen it. Perhaps, he thinks, that’s all part of being dead.

One of his hands feels for the place where he stabbed the knife into his skin, high up on his stomach. He is wearing a dark grey button down shirt—

_Wasn’t he wearing a blue one when he died? Shouldn’t he be wearing the clothes he died in?_

—and he reaches for the buttons, undoing them one by one—

_They feel so solid under his fingertips. Do ghosts feel solid to themselves?_

—and he lets the fabric fall away to the sides and runs a hand over his unmarred stomach, the knife wound having miraculously disappeared. His eyes come up to once again roam around the room, and they linger for a moment on the heavy steel door. Just a door. Not _his_ Door.

“Why am I still here?” he croaks into the empty room, and his throat is sore, so sore, he really needs to get a drink. Standing up from the bed, he feels a sudden surge of dizziness, and he closes his eyes, swaying slightly in place, the nausea in his gut flaring up and nearly making him retch. He stands still for a long moment, forcing deep breaths past his painful throat, until he can finally feel the dizziness falling away from him, at the same time as there is a single, powerful thump in his ribcage.

_A heartbeat?_

One of his hands flies up to his chest, and he tries to feel it again. It was there, he knows it, he felt it. Just once. Now, there is nothing. No movement, no pulse.

One, single heartbeat. Like that time he was lying in bed with Hal, after they had sex, and he was resting his head against Hal’s chest, when suddenly he could feel it right there, under his cheek. One, single heartbeat.

An ice-cold shiver runs down his spine when a slow realisation creeps into his mind.

One, single heartbeat. The pale skin. The nausea. The thirst. The infernal dry throat.

He stumbles backwards, a completely new, different wave of dizziness taking hold of him, and he crashes gracelessly onto the mattress. The shiver down his spine intensifies and spreads throughout his whole body like an electric current.

There is a sharp, burning pain over his sternum now, and one of his hands reaches up and makes contact with something smooth and metal – his silver cross. Swallowing down the bile collecting in his throat, he swiftly pulls the pendant away from his skin, breaking the thin silver chain. Red hot pain explodes on the inside of his palm, and he quickly drops the small object onto the mattress beside him. He opens his hand to reveal an angry red welt where the cross has touched his skin. He stares at it for a long while, at the smoke rising from his skin, and he realises that he is hyperventilating now, so he stops himself breathing altogether.

And he sits, and he waits. Waits for his brainstem to kick in and activate the breathing reflex, for something, anything to happen. But nothing does. Nothing at all, until, suddenly, there is another beat in his chest. Just one.

And he leans forward and retches, and brings up half-digested risotto and red wine and acid and bile and… dark red clumps of partly clotted blood. The sight of it sparks another wave of nausea, and he heaves and heaves until there is nothing left in his stomach at all, and still he continues to dry-heave until his throat feels like it is on fire, and he has an almost overwhelming urge to get up and _get a fucking drink_.

A drink.

 _No,_ he thinks, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and trying desperately to force down the urge, the need, the… hunger.

_No, Hal. No. How could you do this to me? How could you… I… no. No. No no no no no._

A sudden shadow falling over him makes him look up, and his eyes widen as they take in a young woman with short brown hair wearing a leather jacket over a short green dress.

“Oh,” Alex says, staring back at him with equally big eyes. “I… didn’t realise you were awake.”

“Alex,” is all he manages to croak out, his eyes fixed on her, the very fact that he can see her serving as undeniable evidence of what he is now. As if he really needed any more evidence.

“I-I’ll go get something to… clean that up,” Alex says vaguely, gesturing towards the puddle of sick on the floor in front of him.

He gives her a small nod, and watches her disappear into thin air right in front of him. He sits rooted to the spot, staring into empty space, and a moment later he can hear the unmistakable sound of someone rummaging around in a cupboard in the kitchen, and the tap coming on at the sink. Then, Alex is back with a bucket and a cloth, and he finally jumps to his feet as she drops to the floor in front of him and starts cleaning up his mess.

“No, Alex, let me,” he rasps weakly. God, he really, really needs to do something about this dry throat.

She looks up at him with a small frown. “It’s all right, Blondie, I’ve got this. You… sit down, okay? You look like you’re about to drop.”

He lets out a mirthless laugh as he sits back down on the bed, slightly to the side from where Alex is still cleaning the floor. Watching her wringing out the cloth, he furrows his brow at her and says, “I’m sorry.”

She looks up and meets his eyes. “Don’t fucking apologise, okay? I…” she drifts off with a sigh, drops the cloth into the bucket and climbs to her feet. “I should go get Hal.”

“No!” he rushes out immediately, and Alex looks at him sharply.

“But he asked me to let him know as soon as—”

“No, Alex!” he all but shouts, blue eyes boring straight into hers, nostrils quivering. “I don’t want to see him.”

Alex gives him a long, calculating look, then she slowly walks over and sits down next to him on the bed. “Look, I understand that you’re probably angry at him—” she starts, but he interrupts her with another harsh laugh.

“Angry,” he repeats flatly, shaking his head. “I don’t think that quite covers it, sorry.”

She sighs. “Dominic, listen—”

“I don’t even know if you should call me that anymore,” he cuts in, a deep frown building on his face as he stares down at the palm of his right hand, the angry red weal nothing more than a faint pink mark now. “I’m not sure if I still deserve that name.”

“Jesus, don’t be ridiculous, Dominic!” Alex snaps, and his eyes dart up to meet hers. “Of course I can still call you that. You’re still… you. Just a… slightly different you.”

He laughs again, his throat constricting painfully. “Slightly. Yeah.”

She gives him a concerned look. “I really think you should talk to Hal.”

“I said no, Alex,” he says forcefully, then averts his eyes and adds, “I’m sure you’ll be perfectly able to teach me all there is to know about being dead.”

“Yes, but you’re not just dead. You’re a v—”

“Don’t, please, I beg you,” he cuts in, eyes growing wide as he gives her a pleading look. His throat closes up and his voice is a mere whisper when he adds, “I’m not ready for that.”

Alex huffs. “Fine. Live in denial. But it’s gonna catch up with you eventually.”

“I’m not in denial,” he says quietly. “I know what he made me. I’m just not ready to hear you say it.”

“All right,” Alex replies with a sigh. Then her eyes narrow as she takes a closer look at him, and she asks, “How are you feeling, anyway? You look…” she pauses, and he chuckles dryly.

“Pale?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows at her.

She rolls her eyes and says, “No, actually, I was going to say tired. Unwell. Like Hal when he hasn’t…” she drifts off again and her eyes widen. “Of course,” she breathes. “Do you need me to get you a—”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Alex asks, sounding unconvinced, and he nods. After a moment of silence, she says, “You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

“I’m… all right,” he replies hesitantly, and now it is Alex’s turn to raise her eyebrows at him. He sighs and says, “What do you expect, Alex?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “I was expecting Hal to deal with this bit. I’m not exactly an expert on newborn v—”

“Alex!” he barks, giving her a meaningful look, and she snaps her mouth shut.

“Sorry,” she says quietly after a moment.

“No, you’re all right. I just…” he trails off, sighing deeply. They fall silent, and his eyes once more fall on his right palm, lying in his lap. The burn mark is completely gone. After a long, quiet moment, he hesitantly looks up at the ghost sitting next to him, meeting her eyes. They’re brown, he realises. He has not had the chance to notice that before. His voice is very quiet and measured when he asks, “Alex, would you mind bringing me a cup of tea?”

The expression of pity on her face almost makes him throw up again. “If you’re sure that’s what you want,” she just says, furrowing her brow.

He swallows thickly, grimacing at the pain in his parched throat, and gives her a curt nod. “It is.”

“Okay then,” she says and gets to her feet. The movement rustles the bedsheets, and his sharp hearing picks up the high-pitched sound of a small metal object falling to the floor.

His eyes home in on the source of the sound, and he feels Alex’s gaze following his own as he frowns at the small silver pendant.

“What’s that?” Alex asks, crouching down and picking it up.

“It’s… It _was_ mine.” He looks up at her, eyes darting between her face and the pendant between her fingers. “Would you mind…” He pauses, blows out a sharp breath through flared nostrils. “Would you mind keeping it safe… for me… please?”

Alex eyes the gleaming silver cross in her hand for a moment, a small frown playing on her face. Then realisation dawns, and she slowly nods. “Of course, Blondie.” She smiles at him, and there it is again, that look of pity. It makes his stomach churn.

Alex stands there, just looking at him for another long minute, and he feels increasingly uncomfortable under her scrutinising gaze. Then she gives herself a little shake and, in a too cheery voice, says, “Right. Cup of tea, coming right up.”

And the next moment, she is gone, and he is once again alone.

***

Hal frowns, trying and failing to keep his focus on the newspaper article in front of him, while his mind supplies him with vivid flashbacks of too much blood and too pale skin and blond lashes slowly falling over unseeing blue eyes.

Taking a long, steady breath to ground himself, he once again trains his eyes on the article, only to be interrupted again a moment later, this time by a letter being unceremoniously dropped on the table in front of him. He looks up to see Tom glaring down at him.

“It’s from the landlord,” Tom says, indicating the letter with his chin. “Says if we don’t pay the last three months’ rent in the next month, they’re gonna evict us.” His forehead creases. “That means throw us out, don’t it?”

Hal sighs. “Yes, Tom, that is what it means.” He picks up the letter from the table and gives it a close look. He hadn’t realised that they were so far behind on the rent. He thought with Dominic’s extra payments they had been able to keep on top of it.

“Ya gotta go earn some money, mate,” Tom says, a sour expression on his face as he lets himself fall into the chair opposite him.

Hal swallows. “Tom, you know I’ve been struggling—”

“Yeah, but I thought the whole point of you drinkin’ the blood again is so that ya don’t struggle as much,” he points out.

 _He has a point,_ Hal thinks, and once again lets his eyes wander over the letter in his hand. He really doesn’t think that it is a good idea for him to go out amongst people again so soon. He is still adjusting to the very limited amounts of blood Dominic’s department is letting him have. It has been odd, how variable his response has been to the bottled blood. He thinks it must be something to do with how fresh the blood is, how long since it has been taken, and how much life energy is still left in it.

He remembers one time in particular, when Dominic was still in hospital, when the blood in the flask actually left him positively tipsy, and he didn’t need another one for a good few days after that. But usually, they don’t tend to last for more than a day at the most, and sometimes he doesn’t even get through an entire day before the hunger takes hold of him again. Those are the times when he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into Dominic’s neck at night, when they lie in bed together, so close, and the gentle rhythm of his human’s heartbeat is keeping him from sleeping.

Hal swallows thickly when he realises that he will never hear that heartbeat again.

And that brings him to his final point. As much as he tries not to think about the reality of what he did to Dominic last night, the fact is that in this very moment, Dominic is undergoing the transformation to become a vampire, and that means that, before long, Hal will have to share his supply with him.

 _Or you could just do the sensible thing, and let him have all of it. There are better options available to you, and you know it,_ the other one pipes up, and when the hell did he get back into his head, anyway? _Or better still,_ he continues, _you could do away with it completely, and_ both _look for alternative options. He will have to learn sooner or later…_

“No,” Hal says, briskly shaking his head.

“’S what you said,” Tom says, sounding slightly perplexed. “If not that, then what is the point of ya drinkin’ blood again? ‘Cause I don’t like it one bit.”

Hal looks up at his friend, desperately trying to remember the last thing he said before his mind wandered. Ah. Yes.

“If I remember correctly, you were actually on my side the last time I explained that I was taking small amounts of blood to keep the hunger at bay.”

Tom frowns. “Yeah, but turns out ya lied to me then, didn’t ya? Ya weren’t havin’ donated blood at all, it was all…” he drifts off, his frown deepening. “Why should I trust ya now?”

Hal gives him a serious look. “Because I don’t have a human to drink from anymore,” he says quietly.

Tom stares at him for a long moment, clearly not sure what to reply to that. Eventually he clears his throat and says, “It weren’t right, what ya did to him.”

A sharp pain settles itself in Hal’s chest. He knows. He knows it wasn’t. But what else was he supposed to do? Just… let him die?

“I did what I had to do,” he says.

Tom shakes his head. “World’s got too many vampires in it as it is, mate. An’ you’re the only decent one I ever met. Don’t expect me to be happy to have another one livin’ in this ‘ouse.”

Hal looks at him sharply. “This is Dominic we’re talking about,” he says, flaring his nostrils. “You know him. Of course he’s going to stay.”

“Yeah, ‘cause turnin’ into a vampire never changed no one.”

Hal lets out a deep breath, looking down at the now forgotten newspaper in his lap. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same if it was Natasha.”

“I would never have done that to her!” Tom snaps, then whirls around to the side as just in that moment, there is a whoosh of air beside them and Alex materialises in the middle of the kitchen, holding a bucket. She looks at Hal with a mixture of concern and pity on her face.

“He’s awake,” is all she says, and Hal feels a nervous flutter in his stomach as he immediately sits up straighter.

“So soon?” he asks, more to himself than anyone else, a small crease forming on his brow. He had expected the change to take at least another couple of hours.

Alex shrugs. “I went down to check, and he was sitting up. Looks like he’d just brought his dinner back up as well.” Here she lifts up the bucket she is holding, and Hal gives it a distasteful look.

“Yes, that’s… an unfortunate side effect of the transformation. Doesn’t necessarily happen to everyone, but it’s not uncommon.” He lifts himself out of his chair just as Alex puts down the bucket and turns around to switch on the kettle. He frowns at her. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she asks as she gets a mug out of the cupboard and drops a tea bag into it. Then she turns around to Hal and looks at him with raised eyebrows. “I’m making him a cup of tea.”

Hal stands in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the ghost for a long moment, before bursting into a fit of laughter. “He asked you for a cup of tea?” Alex nods, and Hal turns around to Tom, who is still sitting at the table. He gives the werewolf a significant look and says, “Didn’t I tell you?”

Tom snorts and shakes his head. “Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, and Hal finds that he can’t stop laughing, but the laughter is bringing tears to his eyes now, and his vision slowly blurs as the wetness builds up.

He turns around to Alex just as he sees her taking the mug off the counter, and she looks like she is about to rent-a-ghost back downstairs.

“I’ll take it,” he says quickly, reaching out for the mug, but Alex keeps it firmly held between her own hands. Her expression is guarded when she speaks again.

“Hal, he… he doesn’t want to see you.”

Hal feels a sudden lump rising in his throat. “He what?”

“He said he doesn’t want to see you,” she repeats, sighing. “He’s… pretty pissed off.”

He nods. “I understand that, but—”

“He made a big point of it, Hal,” she says firmly.

He stands across from her, regarding her through slowly narrowing eyes. After a long, drawn-out silence, voice dangerously low and carefully stressing each word, he says, “Give me that goddamn cup, Alex.”

And with a deep, resigned sigh, she does.

***

Dominic's head snaps up when his nostrils pick up a new scent, a subtle one, almost washed out completely by the overwhelming smell of what he immediately recognises as Twinings English Breakfast Blend. His nostrils quiver to hold on to that other scent, the one underneath, and there is a sudden ache deep in his stomach, an anticipatory flutter in his chest, while his ears follow the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and the locking mechanism on the door being undone.

Then the door swings open, and his eyes fall on the last person he wants to be around right now. The scent he could make out before is so much stronger now, coming off of Hal in waves, and it’s so tempting, almost irresistible, but it’s not _Hal_ , per se. It’s something _about_ Hal, something _inside of_ Hal. And then he recognises it for what it is, and the thought makes his stomach churn.

“Get out,” he says quietly, averting his eyes, and Hal pauses in the doorway.

“I’ve got your tea,” he says. Dominic’s eyes flick over for a fraction of a second to take in the mug Hal is holding out to him.

“I asked Alex to bring it. Not you,” he mutters, once again training his eyes on the floor in front of him.

“Dominic—” Hal starts, and Dominic can feel a sudden wave of anger washing over him.

“I probably shouldn’t be surprised,” he says coldly. “It’s not like you’ve got any respect for my wishes.”

Hal sighs. “I didn’t—”

“Get out,” he says again, voice trembling with suppressed emotion. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hal taking a step closer, towards him, and he feels the anger build and grow inside of him, more powerful than he has ever felt it before.

“Please, Dominic, I’m—”

“Get the fuck out!” he snarls in a voice that he doesn’t recognise as his own, and the world around him explodes in bright light and vibrant colour, and there is a sudden itching pressure in his gums that he vaguely remembers from earlier, but this time, there is nothing to stop it, and he feels his fangs breaking through, two sharp tips that poke into his tongue and make his mouth feel too full, and he sees Hal’s eyes widen as he backs away, and wow, he never realised before that Hal’s eyes hold every colour of the rainbow inside of them, but that’s irrelevant right now, because he wants him to leave, wants him gone, wants him out of his life… his… death… whatever, it doesn’t matter. And he doesn’t know when he jumped up off the bed, but he finds himself kicking forcefully against the wooden frame until it collapses to the floor, and he gives another well aimed kick to one of the legs, breaking it off and holding it up in the air between them. “Get out, and don’t come back, or I swear to god I will stake you!”

Hal’s eyes are like saucers as he looks back into his own, and he doesn’t take them off him when he bends down and puts the steaming mug down on the floor, or when he straightens up again and slowly lifts both hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender.

“Okay, I’m going,” Hal says, and there is so much pain, so much heartbreak in his voice, but it doesn’t matter now, because he deserves every last bit of it.

And Dominic watches, the makeshift stake still held up high between them, as Hal retreats over the threshold and pulls the door closed. It is only when he hears the locks being put back into place, and the slow, heavy footsteps on the stairs, that he lowers his hand and drops the splintered wooden bed leg on the floor with a loud _clang_. His eyes feel dry and itchy, making him blink, and all of a sudden the world is back to normal again. With a deep sigh, he looks around himself, at the ruined, broken bed frame against the far wall, and sinks down to the floor next to where Hal left his tea, leaning his back against the white brick wall and pulling his knees up towards his chest.

He reaches out and lifts the mug up to his lips, taking a greedy gulp to try and soothe his aching throat. The hot tea washes over his tongue, and his face contorts in disgust.

It tastes like muddy water. 


	2. #OC925

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Thank you so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos, and for supporting me in my quest to bring my OTP to life. You make my day every single time :)
> 
> Now, this chapter has been a rather difficult birth, and I'm still not sure if I'm entirely happy with it, but I think it's as close to what I was trying to get out as I will ever get.
> 
> Please don’t hate me too much!

I don't care for the person that I've become  
I choke and then I realise  
It's my own worst-case scenario  
I replay and then I rewind

So keep searching for what I don't think you'll find  
I haven't been here for a while

\- Brigade, “Boundaries”

 

_Hal walks into the dimly lit bar with a spring in his step and a sense of purpose that he has not felt for a very long time. He has become so complacent, so set in his ways with his supernatural friends and his little human lover and his stupid flasks of blood that give the illusion of satiation when really what he craves, deep down, is to just feel the exhilaration that only fresh blood straight from the vein can give. Nothing else comes close. Nothing else ever will._

_And now his human is not human anymore, what is he supposed to do? It is only natural that he is here, looking, searching for a willing source._

_“What can I get you?” the bartender asks him, and Hal’s eyes flick up to take in a man in his early twenties, piercing blue eyes regarding him curiously from under a fringe of light blond hair._

_“You wouldn’t want to know,” he says, a slow, flirtatious smile forming on his lips, and he relishes in the view of the bartender’s eyes widening, and the faintest blush creeping into his cheeks._

_“Can’t get it for you if you don’t tell me,” the bartender says, clearly trying to keep his cool but failing miserably, if his fast beating heart is anything to go by._

_“Why don’t you get me a double shot of whiskey, and we go from there,” Hal suggests, unable to keep his eyes from flicking down to the man’s long, slender neck repeatedly before coming back up to his handsome face._

Yes, _he thinks to himself,_ he will definitely do.

_A glass appears in front of him, and Hal lifts it to his lips, sipping the sharp, golden liquid inside._

_“Haven’t seen you around here before,” he bartender continues, and Hal looks up again to see him giving him a questioning look. “You new in the area?”_

_“No,” Hal says, slowly shaking his head. “Just got out of a… long-term relationship. You know what it’s like.”_

_The bartender sighs. “Shit, man. I’m sorry.”_

_“No, don’t be,” says Hal, eyes darkening as he keeps them fixed on the blond man behind the bar. “In a way I’m glad. Gives me the opportunity to see what else is out there, you know?”_

_“I see,” the bartender says, then looks at Hal for a very long moment, clearly deep in thought about something. Eventually, he seems to come to a conclusion, as he gives Hal a somewhat hesitant, almost shy smile and says, “I’m Jamie.”_

_“Hal,” says Hal, returning his smile. “But to be honest, Jamie,” he continues, furrowing his brow, “I’m not sure if you’re really up for what I have in mind.” He looks Jamie up and down, and the hunger inside him flares up violently as he watches a small blush rise into the man’s cheeks._

_“Well, now I’m intrigued,” Jamie says, eyes widening slightly as he looks back at Hal._

_“Let’s just say that I’ve got… somewhat unconventional tastes.”_

_Jamie swallows. “Just how unconventional are we talking?” he asks._

_Hal thinks for a moment, carefully taking in the man before him, trying to establish whether he is misreading the signs… but he is really fairly certain, and his instincts have rarely let him down before. He fixes his eyes on Jamie’s bright blue ones, and then he makes them flash black for the briefest of moments. He watches as the other man’s eyes grow huge, and he swallows repeatedly with obvious nerves._

_“Unconventional enough?” Hal asks, and Jamie nods jerkily._

_“Quite, yeah.” He continues to stare at Hal for a long moment. “What are you?” he asks eventually, voice breathy and quiet._

_“I’m a vampire.”_

_Jamie’s breath hitches in his throat. “So when you said ‘unconventional tastes’…”_

_“I want to drink your blood,” Hal says bluntly, his eyes still fixed on Jamie’s, piercing into them until the other man averts his gaze, looking down at the shiny wooden surface of the bar between them before turning away. Another small group of people has arrived, and Hal watches as Jamie serves them their drinks, wondering for a moment whether his instinct has let him down after such a long period of non-use. But then, wordlessly, Jamie turns back around and takes the few steps back towards where Hal is sitting._

_“Meet me at the door at ten past midnight,” Jamie says, looking at him with a steely gaze. “I’ll show you my place.”_

_Hal can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips. “You’re not scared?” he asks._

_Jamie shrugs. “Are you going to kill me?”_

_Hal smiles brightly at him. “No.”_

_“Well,” Jamie replies, with a small, crooked smile of his own, “then why should I be scared?”_

***

Dominic sits in his usual spot on the floor, his back leaning against the cold brick wall, but he doesn’t feel the cold, despite only wearing a thin t-shirt. Because his body temperature matches his surroundings now.

He has his knees pulled up at a slight angle, bare feet planted on the floor, balancing his laptop on his thighs as he busily types away, trying to ignore the gnawing pain in his stomach that grows and spreads and begs to be addressed.

It is Day Two of his unlife, his painful new existence in this body that doesn’t feel the cold and doesn’t need to breathe or eat or go to the bathroom… Dominic stops typing for a moment and reaches out a hand to bring the hot cup of tea to his lips that Alex brought him a short while ago, grimacing slightly at the taste, but forcing it down himself anyway. He has started taking sugar again, and a lot of it, in a fruitless attempt to make the beverage more appealing, but it is all to no avail. He knew it would be, but he had to try it anyway.

Shortly after Hal left yesterday, Alex appeared back in the cellar, giving him a dark look and saying, “Do you really think _that_ was necessary?”

He only glared at her over the rim of his cup as he poured the disgusting drink down his throat, not bothering with an actual reply. Alex sighed and turned away from him, and he wordlessly watched as she started picking up the broken pieces of wood from the floor, gathering as much as she could into her arms before rent-a-ghosting back upstairs. After a moment, she was back, and he looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

“Making sure I don’t go and do anything stupid?” he asked flatly, and she gave him an exasperated look.

“Seems to me like you already have.” He didn’t reply, just steadily held her gaze, and after a moment she added, “But yes, Hal was… worried you might get ideas.”

Dominic huffed, looking down at the half empty tea cup between his fingers. The drink itself may be unpalatable, but the heat it emitted was nonetheless comforting.

“To his credit, I probably would have, if you left it. But I guess even that freedom has been taken away from me now.”

Alex frowned. “You’re only down here because—”

“I know,” he cut her off, nodding. “I know why I’m down here. That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“Then what did you…?” Alex started asking, her frown deepening as she absentmindedly reached down to gather up more pieces of the broken bed frame.

He gave her a meaningful look, but chose not to say anything more, and a short while later, she was gone again.

Later that day, Alex came back to offer him another cup of tea, which he accepted, and that was when he asked her to bring his phone and laptop to pass the time, and about half an hour later – undoubtedly after a long, thorough discussion with Hal – she did, along with a change of clothes and a cheese and ham sandwich. He gave the sandwich one cautious sniff and decided that he would really rather not, and that was that.

Dominic shakes off the memory and focuses his eyes back on the laptop screen, where he has opened a new, blank document, with so far only a number written on it.

_#OC925_

Dominic stares at the number on the screen until his vision blurs, his nostrils quivering as he consciously forces air in and out of his lungs, as if he is afraid they would somehow decondition otherwise, and stop functioning altogether.

His fingers start moving of their own accord, and his eyes come back into focus as they follow the letters appearing on the screen.

_Type 2_

_Goes by the name of Dominic Rook._

_Recruited against his w—_

He stops, lets out a deep, shaky breath, then presses backspace and starts again.

_Recruited 14 December 2013 in Barry, Wales, United Kingdom, by known Type 2 #SJ031._

“Hey, Blondie, I thought I’d bring you some dinner, seeing as you haven’t eaten anything since… forever.”

Dominic’s head snaps up as Alex appears in front of him, a plate of what looks like cottage pie in her hand, and the smell of it makes his stomach churn.

“Thanks, Alex, but I—”

“What are you writing?” she asks before he even has the chance to finish, putting the plate down on the floor next to him as she leans over and glances at the screen. Her face darkens when she takes in the words. “Dominic.” She sighs deeply. “You're not serious.”

He averts his eyes. “Of course I’m serious. Can you see me laughing?”

He can hear her sigh again, and feel her piercing gaze on him as he keeps his own eyes fixed on a particular claw mark on the opposite wall.

“Are you at least going to try and eat some of that?” she asks after a moment.

He swallows and looks down at the plate of food next to him. It looks nice, he has to admit, but if anything that is more of a reason for him not to eat it. He could really do without yet another bitter disappointment.

“I'm really not h—”

“I didn't ask if you were hungry – which, by the way, I'm pretty sure you must be, even if not for cottage pie –, but what I actually said was, are you going to have any? Because, you know, it’s food and you haven't really eaten anything for two days?”

His eyes widen gradually as she speaks, but he finds that he doesn’t even have the strength left to argue with her. Yes, the hunger is so strong in him it feels like it is tearing him apart from the inside, but he is not going to give in to it. Not now, not ever.

His gaze wanders back to the steaming hot pie, giving it an appraising look, and after a moment he puts his laptop down on the floor on his other side and reluctantly reaches out to pick up the plate. He feels Alex’s eyes on him as he does, and he looks up at her with a furrowed brow. “Do you mind sitting down, please, Alex? You’re making me nervous, hovering like that.”

Alex laughs. “Things were a lot easier when you couldn’t see me.”

“Yeah, well,” Dominic says bitterly, “you can thank your friend Hal for that.”

“Dominic,” Alex says with a sigh, sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Why won’t you at least talk to him?”

He shakes his head, loading a mouthful of cottage pie onto his fork. “No, Alex. How many times do I have to repeat myself? As far as I’m concerned, he can go off and… get himself staked or something.”

“You don’t mean that,” Alex says, and he shoots her a dark look.

“Try me.”

Alex shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

Dominic huffs and brings the fork up to his mouth, taking an experimental sniff before taking the food into his mouth. He can’t quite keep himself from grimacing at the taste and texture of it.

“That bad?” Alex asks, and he looks up to see her frowning at him.

“It doesn’t have any flavour,” he admits. Alex opens her mouth to say something else, but before she gets the chance, he continues, “I’m sure I’ll be able to get myself used to it. I know others have managed. I know Hal…” he drifts off, bile rising into his throat at the mere thought of… him.

Alex lifts her eyebrows at him. “You know, for someone who is so adamant that you want to see him dead, you’re talking about him an awful lot.” She gestures over to his laptop and adds, “Even in there you’re mentioning him.”

Dominic frowns deeply. “That’s because he’s the one that… did this… to me.” He goes silent, and takes another mouthful of cottage pie. It’s here, he might as well eat it. At least, he hopes, it will keep Alex off his back for a little while.

Not quite yet though, as the ghost remains sitting across from him, watching him eat with a longing expression on her face. “At least you can still eat,” she says eventually, and he gives her a sympathetic smile.

“True, but don’t think for one moment that it’s anything like it was when I was alive,” he says without thinking, then freezes with the fork halfway to his mouth when he realises how naturally he just said those words. _When I was alive._

“I haven’t actually said it yet,” Alex says quietly, “but I’m sorry, Dominic. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

He looks over at her, and his brow creases when a thought enters his mind. “Were you there?” he asks, and he doesn’t miss her eyes widening almost imperceptibly before she catches herself. Her eyes, everything about her, in fact, is so expressive – he wonders how he was ever able to read her without that extra information.

As it is, he meets her gaze with a steady one of his own as he waits for an answer to his question. After a short moment, her voice barely above a whisper, she says, “I tried to stop him, Dominic. I tried to tell him that you wouldn’t want...” She trails off, takes a deep breath, and continues, “He didn’t listen.”

“Clearly.”

Alex sighs. “I’m not the enemy here, you know?”

Dominic swallows his latest mouthful of cottage pie with some effort, the mince and mashed potato sticking in his dry, aching throat on their way down, making him cough. He gives Alex an apologetic look as he reaches out and takes a sip of water from the glass she had brought him, but it doesn’t completely alleviate the dryness. Nothing ever does.

_Something will._

_No,_ he shuts the thought down before it can even fully manifest itself. _Not going there._

The cold water does at least partly soothe his throat, and he swallows again before looking back up at Alex and saying, “I know, Alex. I’m… sorry for being so miserable.”

“No, don’t be,” she says, shaking her head. “Hell, you didn’t see me after I just died…” Her brow creases and she gives him a thoughtful look. “Although thinking about it, that was the first time _I_ saw _you_.”

“It was?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding. “In the basement of that night club.”

It takes Dominic a moment to think back to the particular incident, and then he remembers the ghostly presence he detected in the night club, such a long time ago. “You were still there?” he asks, frowning at her. “In the basement with your… body?”

Alex nods again. “Yep. And let me tell you one thing, you and your… Men in Grey or whatever… you were fucking creepy.”

His eyebrows shoot up almost to his hairline. “ _I_ was creepy? Says the ghost?”

“To the vampire?” Alex shoots back, and her words are immediately followed by a sudden, deadly silence. There it is, hanging in the air, the word he has been dreading to hear for the last two days, and it hits him like a square blow to the chest, taking his non-essential breath away. His eyes wander from Alex down to his own hands, quite like they did the previous day, taking in his pale skin, barely darker now than the shiny white scar tissue on the inside of his wrist.

“Yes,” he breathes, “that’s me.”

“I’m sorry, Dominic,” Alex says at once, shooting him an apologetic look. “I know you said you didn’t want me to say it. I… I guess I just got—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts in, giving her a thin smile. “I had to hear it sometime. And I’d rather it comes from you than…” he trails off, but he is sure that she knows who he is talking about anyway. Alex was right earlier. He is talking about him too much.

He is thinking about him too much.

“God, why can’t I get you out of my fucking head,” he mutters under his breath, but obviously not quiet enough not to be overheard by Alex, who gives him a sympathetic look.

“Because you love him,” she says, and he feels a sharp pain in his unbeating heart as he stares back at her, slowly shaking his head.

“No,” he says, his voice quiet, calm and level. “There was a man who loved him once, but… that man is dead now.” He gives her a piercing look. “He destroyed that man.”

Alex stares back at him for the longest moment, then scoffs loudly, looks down at the plate in his hand and asks, “Are you done with that?”

Dominic nods. “Yes, thank you.” He holds the plate out to her as she gets to her feet.

“Right,” she says, taking the half-eaten plate of food off of him. “So… call me if you need anything,” she says, indicating the phone on the floor next to him. He follows her gaze, then looks back up at her and gives her another, smaller nod.

“I will.”

“Okay.” She looks like she is just about to rent-a-ghost upstairs, and Dominic is halfway through reaching for his laptop, when she takes a deep breath and adds, “I understand that you’re angry, really, I do. But do you really think that wallowing in self-pity has ever helped anyone?”

Dominic feels a fresh surge of anger coursing through him, and he does his very best to control it as he looks back at her and says, “I think it would be best if you left now.”

“Believe me,” Alex says, her tone biting, “I couldn’t agree more.” Then she rent-a-ghosts upstairs, and he is left staring at his laptop, at the cruel reminder of what Hal did to him, what he made him into.

_#OC925_

_Type 2_

_Goes by the name of Dominic Rook._

_Recruited 14 December 2013 in Barry, Wales, United Kingdom, by known Type 2 #SJ031._

Dominic takes a deep, ragged breath, and his eyes slip closed, as if not looking at it will somehow make it less real, when all the while he feels it deep inside of him, the relentless, gnawing hunger, the undeniable truth of what he has become.

_#SJ031._

_Hal._

_How could you do this to me?_

***

_Hal follows Jamie along the garden path around a large suburban house, and towards a small annexe at the back of the garden that, at least from the outside, looks like barely more than a glorified garden shed. The light comes on, and Hal’s eyes widen as they wander around the surprisingly spacious room, housing an interesting mix of IKEA furniture, a small number of brightly coloured paintings on the walls, and a myriad of textbooks scattered on literally every surface._

_“Sorry about the mess,” Jamie mutters as he lifts a heavy tome off the sofa puts it down on top of a growing pile on the floor. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”_

_“What are you studying?” Hal asks, intrigued despite himself._

You’re only here for his blood, _he silently reminds himself._ Remember you’ve got someone else at home? Don’t make this into more than it was meant to be.

_“Medicine, actually,” Jamie says, and if anything, Hal’s eyes widen even more._

_“You’re going to be a doctor?” he asks, the silent question of,_ And you’re really not scared of me? _, hanging in the air between them._

_“Yeah,” Jamie says with a small nod and a frown. “It’s a family thing. Both my parents are doctors. My little sister is bucking the trend though… she wants to become a vet,” he says with a crooked smile, and Hal can’t help the small laugh that bursts out of him._

_“Where do you study?” he asks after a moment, just as Jamie takes a step towards him._

_“Did you really come here to interview me about my degree?” he asks cheekily, and Hal smiles._

_“No. I’m just curious, I can’t help it.”_

_“Bristol,” he says. “I live in halls during term time, but we’ve just broken up for Christmas holidays.”_

_“Bristol, hm?” Hal says, taking another step closer and looking deeply into Jamie’s blue eyes. “Did you know that Bristol is the vampire capital of the UK?”_

_Jamie’s brow creases. “Is that so?” he asks._

_“Mmmh, definitely is,” Hal mutters, as the human’s smell and the sound of his heartbeat is so close, so loud, so overpowering now that he can barely keep his thoughts together. “It has been for many years.”_

_“I had no idea,” says Jamie, before leaning in the rest of the way and capturing Hal’s lips in an urgent kiss. Hal responds immediately, hands coming up to cup the other’s face as he kisses him back hungrily. Jamie lets out a breathless little moan as Hal probes his lips apart with his tongue, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and oh, that sound, that smell, he can’t hold back any longer…_

_Hal’s fangs pierce the soft, sensitive skin, and Jamie winces, stiffens only for a moment, before Hal withdraws his fangs, and his tongue swipes out to gently lick the drops of blood off of his lip. Hal closes his eyes briefly, relishing the taste of fresh human blood on his tongue, then opens them again as he pulls back slightly, gives Jamie a questioning look._

_“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, watching Jamie’s ribcage rise and fall heavily with fast, deep breaths._

_“Yes,” Jamie breathes, nodding frantically as he moves in again for another kiss, and Hal kisses him back, but only for a moment, before he moves his mouth away and kisses a well-known trail down Jamie’s neck and, without preamble, sinks his fangs into the blond man’s skin._

***

Hal wakes up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed with a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. His hair feels damp as he runs a hesitant, shivery hand through it, and his breaths are coming in fast, shallow gasps.

 _It was only a dream,_ he tells himself, over and over. But, hell, was it a realistic dream. Hal sits still for a long moment, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths to calm himself. The hunger is gnawing at his insides, and he reaches over to the bedside table, opens the top drawer to reveal a half-full flask of blood. He unscrews the top and brings the flask to his lips, letting the red liquid flow into his mouth, and he tries to suppress the grimace that always comes with the stale, cold blood, so not how it was supposed to be.

 _But it’s better than the alternative. It’s better than… whatever you were dreaming about,_ he tries to convince himself, and somewhere deep down, behind a thick, sturdy wall that he painstakingly rebuilt over the past few months, there is a wicked cackle.

Hal puts the empty flask back on the bedside table, then quickly gets up and makes his way downstairs, where he finds Alex levitating the salt and pepper shakes in the air above the dining table.

“Having fun?” he asks, and the shakers crash down on the wooden surface.

“Shit, Hal, I didn’t hear you come in,” Alex exclaims, giving him a dark look.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “I’m sorry, Alex, but I do live here as well,” he says, sitting down next to hear and absentmindedly reaching out to pick up the salt and pepper shakers, placing them back down properly in the middle of the table. Alex sighs and picks up a magazine he is sure he has seen her read before, leafing through the pages without really showing any interest in what she is looking at. Hal sits, silently watching her for a long while.

At one point, he isn’t sure exactly how much time has passed, Tom walks into the living room, yawning loudly with a cup of tea and a bowl of Cheerios in his hands, and flops down at the table with a mumbled “Mornin’”, before silently devouring his breakfast.

The house is so quiet nowadays, Hal thinks. Too quiet, even for his standards. It feels almost like… almost like someone has died.

 _Someone_ has _died,_ a cruel little voice reminds him, and he sighs.

“I need to speak to him,” he announces into the room at large, and two pairs of eyes dart over to him, staring at him in disbelief.

“Hasn’t ‘e made it clear enough he don’t wanna talk to ya, mate?” Tom points out, and Alex nods emphatically next to him.

“He’s right, Hal,” she says, giving him a slightly pained look. “I think Dominic made his position very clear.”

Hal heaves a frustrated sigh. “But then what is he going to do?” he asks, more harshly than he intended. “Is he just going to… lock himself away in that cellar forever? Because sooner or later he will have to face up to what is happening with him.”

“I think he knows that, Hal,” Alex points out. “I mean, shit, he’s even started a file about himself.”

“He wha’?” Tom asks, a frown on his face, and Hal can’t help but mirror his expression.

“He started writing a file about himself,” Alex says, eyes darting between Tom and Hal. “Complete with a creepy Archive number and everything. I didn’t think it was a particularly healthy thing to do, but what can you do? You know how stubborn he is.”

Hal lets out a mirthless laugh. “Indeed.” He looks down at the table top, then back up at his friends, regarding both of them in turn and saying, “I have to help him.”

Alex sighs. “You said that once before, Hal, and look where that got us.”

He glares at her and says, “Seriously, Alex, what did you expect me to do?” His eyes flick over towards Tom, who is giving him a grave look. “You all seem to think that… what, that I should’ve just let him die? I’m sorry, but that was never an option.”

With that, he jumps up from his chair and starts to quickly walk towards the hallway. Behind him, he can hear Alex’s voice calling, “Hal”, but he doesn’t turn back around to her, because what else can she possibly tell him to change his mind?

He slows down to a halt at the top of the stairs, takes a deep breath, then slowly sets one foot in front of each other towards the grey steel door.

***

Dominic wakes from a fitful rest when his ears pick up footsteps on the stairs, and his nostrils quiver as they pick up what he now knows as the scent of another vampire descending the stairs. He slowly sits up and leans his back against the wall, eyes darting nervously towards the door.

“Go away, Hal,” he says, not even bothering to raise his voice. He knows Hal will be able to hear him just fine.

He can hear the other stopping outside the door, and the hunger claws away at his insides at the continued onslaught of that wonderful, wonderful scent.

 _No,_ he tells himself. _It’s not wonderful. It’s disgusting and wrong and I’m not going to give in to it._

 _“_ I just want to talk to you, Dominic. Please,” Hal says, not making any move to come in, but continuing to stand just outside the door.

Dominic takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself, distract himself from both the enticing smell and the anger that once again wells up inside of him at the mere presence of the traitor behind the door, but the deep breathing only makes the smell invade his senses even more, and he finds himself completely engulfed by it. “Hal, do you mind…” He pauses, swallows compulsively as saliva builds up in his mouth at an alarming rate. “Could you step back from the door, please? It’s very distracting.”

Hal sighs. “It wouldn’t affect you as much if you—”

“Hal,” he interjects, carefully controlling his voice. “Can you please just take a few steps back?”

Hal sighs again, but he can hear rustling and footsteps outside, followed by the sound of Hal sitting down on the stairs.

“Better?” he asks.

Dominic nods, somehow trusting that Hal can pick up the minuscule sound of the movement. He knows he could. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Dominic, listen—”

“I really don’t want to talk to you, Hal,” he cuts in, nostrils flaring as he once again tries to keep a lid on his volatile emotions. Is this all part of becoming a… vampire? It would make sense, in a way, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with.

“I just wanted to tell you—”

“I loved you,” he says, and the statement is followed by a silence so heavy it is almost stifling.

After a long, tense moment, he can hear Hal take a shaky breath and whisper, “Dominic.”

He shakes his head and swallows thickly. _No,_ he thinks, _I’m not going to let you get under my skin. I have to get this out._

“I loved you,” he repeats. “Against my better judgement, against everything I was ever taught, I trusted you. And you… you _violated_ me.” He stops, squeezes his eyes shut. “Just like the monster I always thought you were.”

“Dominic, please,” Hal says in a strangled voice. “I love you.”

Dominic blows a forceful breath out through his nose. “That may be so, Hal, but that’s not the reason you did this.”

“Yes,” Hal argues immediately. “Yes, it is. You… you were dying, I had to—”

“You didn’t do this because you love me, Hal. You didn’t do what was _best_ for me. You did what you did purely because it was what _you_ wanted. Because you couldn’t face having to let me go.”

He can hear Hal swallow. “I did it because I was scared—”

“That’s exactly my point,” Dominic interjects, but Hal raises his voice and continues.

“—because I was scared of what would happen to me if I lost you.”

Dominic is silent for a long moment following Hal's admission, his anger slowly dissipating as a new, decidedly uncomfortable feeling takes hold of him. “Because of him?” he asks, and he can hear Hal nodding.

“Yes.”

Dominic lets out a mirthless laugh. “Well, to be honest, Hal, I doubt there'll be much I can do to help keep you safe from him if in this very moment, there is a part of me that fantasises about sinking my fucking teeth into your neck.” He pauses, startled by his own words, and the undeniable truth behind them. “Yours. Not even a human’s,” he continues, shaking his head. “I didn't even realise that was a thing.”

“It is a thing,” Hal confirms, and is it just him, or does Hal sound slightly breathless as he says it? There is a part deep inside Dominic that feels an intense thrill at the notion, and he quickly shuts that part down. “More so for you because you haven't yet had any human blood,” Hal continues. “It makes mine… more appealing to you.”

“I don’t like the ‘yet’ in that statement,” Dominic says, and Hal sighs.

“You’re going to have to give in to it eventually, Dominic. There has not been a single vampire in history who has never drunk any human blood.”

“So what?” Dominic snaps, staring fixedly at the grey steel door. “There is a first time for everything, as they say.”

Hal sighs again. “Dominic. Wasn’t it you who kept trying to persuade me that an abstinent vampire can never be safe?”

“Yes, but there is a difference, isn’t there?” Dominic points out. “Because I have never even tasted it. I won’t know what I’m missing.”

“I honestly don’t think it works like that,” Hal says quietly.

Dominic feels a new wave of anger rising up in him, and he gets to his feet. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you made me into this…. this… undead creature,” he snaps, breathing heavily. “Because I am not going to give in to this, Hal. I’d rather die than turn into a monster like you.”

Hal is quiet for a long moment before, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “Please, Dominic. I need you with me to not become that monster again. Without you… I don’t know what is going to happen to me.”

“But don’t you realise, Hal?” Dominic asks, his feet carrying him over towards the door against his will, to get closer to that scent, to get closer to _him._ “You already _are_ that monster. There is nothing I can do to undo that.”

Hal sighs deeply on the other side, and Dominic rests his forehead against the cold steel door, the pull of the blood in Hal’s veins almost too strong to bear.

“I understand,” Hal says, and then there is more rustling outside as Hal gets to his feet, and turns around, and Dominic can hear his footsteps on the stairs, getting quieter.

And the wonderful smell disappears, and he slowly comes back to himself, gives himself a powerful shake as if he is coming out of a hypnotic daze.

_Hal._

_How could you do this to me?_


	3. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Not an awful lot happening in this one I’m afraid... I decided to cut this chapter short and move the final scene across to the next one, which is already underway, so hopefully won’t be too long until the next update!

But I'm learning to lie here in the quiet light  
While I watch the sky go from black to grey  
Learning how not to die inside a little every time  
I think about you and wonder if you are awake

\- The National, “Quiet Light”

 

By Day Four, the hunger claws and tears at Dominic’s insides with an unyielding, brute force that makes his toes curl and his teeth clench, and he has a hard time to even keep his fangs from extending more or less all the time in his body’s desperate bid for nourishment. His fingers are trembling on the keyboard as he adds the latest entry to his own personal Type 2 file, the one that is password protected and marked **Top Secret, for D Rook’s eyes only**. Being head of his department does have its perks after all.

Not that he can ever go back to his job now.

Dominic swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the lump that forms in his throat at the thought of his work, at the realisation that he will never, ever be able to return now. Up until this point, he has been much too busy trying to adjust to this new existence to take notice of much else around him, or really think about the bigger picture. An existence that, by its very nature, makes him feel like a drug addict without ever even having tasted the drug.

_Fuck you, Hal. Fuck you and your intolerable selfishness. I should have let you rot in hell._

And there it is again, the bitter thought that surfaced for the first time two days ago, shortly after Hal’s second visit to the cellar, and appears to have taken on a life of its own inside his head.

_If I’d never gone back to save you, I wouldn’t be forced to exist in this cursed body now._

But then there is the other voice in his head, the one that sounds deceptively like Alex, that keeps telling him, _You don’t mean that._ And to be honest, he isn’t really even sure which one of them is right anymore.

As if the mere thought of her somehow magicked her into existence, Alex suddenly materialises in front of him, jolting him from his thoughts and making him look up.

“Hey, Blondie,” she says cheerfully, throwing him a smile that is quickly replaced by a look of concern as her gaze wanders over his shivering form on the floor. “Shit, you look awful.”

Dominic huffs. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” says Alex, brown eyes boring into his. “Are you sure you don’t want to at least try—”

“No, Alex,” he says with all the conviction he can muster. “As I already told Hal—”

“Yeah, I know, he told me of your _brilliant plan_ ,” she interrupts, then shakes her head, never taking her eyes off him. “If I’m completely honest, Dominic, I think I’m with him on this. It’s never going to work.”

“It’s what he tried to do with Crumb,” Dominic points out, and Alex lets out a harsh laugh.

“Oh yeah, that worked out well.”

Dominic’s nostrils flare. “Yes, well, I’m not Crumb.”

Alex looks like she is about to retort something, but then thinks better of it, sighs and says, “No, you’re not. I didn’t mean to compare you to him. I… guess I just don’t really know what to say to you.” The last bit is said in a very quiet, very un-Alex-like voice that makes his heart wrench.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he says, and she gives him a questioning look.

“You’re sorry he made you into a vampire?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head, “I’m sorry to be such a pain in the arse. I know I’ve been completely insufferable, and I can understand that you’re running out of things to say. It’s because there is nothing _to_ say. There’s nothing that will make this easier.” He looks up and straight into her eyes. “I’m going to have to just… sit this out. I’m fairly confident that something is going to happen eventually.”

Alex frowns. “What do you mean, ‘something’s going to happen’?”

“Well,” he says with a sad smile and a shrug, “either I’ll somehow…” He pauses, a shudder running through him as he prepares for his next words, “get used to it, or something will happen that means I won’t have to.”

“Don’t even say that, Dominic!” Alex shoots back immediately, her eyes wide with alarm.

“I already told you that I probably would’ve ended it if you hadn’t removed that wood from the room,” he says matter of factly. “I think I have proven to you by now that I am both willing and able to go through with it.”

“I think there was a lot more at play there than you just up and killing yourself on a whim,” Alex says harshly, giving him a significant look, and he can’t help but slowly nod.

“Yes, of course there was,” he confirms. “But that was before… this.” Like so many times before, he looks down at the deadly pale, almost translucent skin on his hands and arms, and he notices a thin film of sweat coating his skin. “God, I don’t even want to know how much of a mess I look right now,” he mumbles, more to himself than Alex.

“I’ve got to say, Blondie, you could probably do with a shower and a shave,” Alex replies nonetheless, and he looks up to see her giving him a look halfway between sympathy and teasing. “Unless you’re trying to go for the ruggedly handsome look.” He runs a hesitant hand along his chin, feeling a generous amount of rough stubble that he would never have allowed to grow before, and he can’t help but silently agree with her. Alex’s eyes narrow as she regards him carefully, and after a moment, she says, “You could, you know.”

“Could what?” he asks.

“Have a shower and a shave,” Alex continues, and he starts to feel an anxious knot building in his stomach.

“Alex, I can’t—”

“I can rent-a-ghost you straight into the bathroom,” she says.

His eyes grow wide at the suggestion. “I’m really not sure about that,” he mumbles, looking down.

“It’s fine, Dominic, I’ve done it loads of times with Hal.”

“I know,” he replies with a sigh. “I guess I just… I don’t need yet another reminder that I’m…”

“Not a living thing anymore?” Alex asks, and he huffs and nods. “Well, guess what, Dominic. Neither am I. And neither is Hal. And Tom… well, he’s got his own thing going on as well, even if it’s nothing to do with being dead, so… basically, you’re in the wrong place to be making such a fucking big deal about this shit, okay?”

Dominic’s breath sticks in his throat as he looks up at her, at a complete loss of what to reply. Alex just meets his gaze with her own, and her eyes are hard now, none of their usual warmth and sympathy left in them. After a long, silent moment, he finally takes a deep breath and says, “All right.”

“All right, you’ll let me take you to the bathroom?” Alex clarifies, and he nods.

“Yes, but you have to make sure that the door is securely locked from the outside, and that I won’t be able to sense any… humans nearby.”

“Of course,” she says, her tone once again gentle and understanding. “Let me just check out the room, get everything ready for you. I’ll be back in five.”

“Thanks, Alex,” he says, chancing a small smile, and it grows when he sees it returned by his friend.

“You’re welcome, Blondie,” she replies, and then she’s gone.

***

Hal turns over towards his alarm clock, hand reaching out to silence the shrill sound that alerts him to the fact that he has to now stop lying awake in the big, empty bed, like he did for the last two hours, and has to get up and face the day. Ever since Dominic’s transformation, Hal has barely managed to sleep more than four to five hours per night, waking from strange, too realistic dreams in the early hours of the morning only to find that he can’t go back to sleep again, however much he tries to. And he lies in bed in the silent house, listening out for the tiniest noises from the direction of the cellar, wondering if he is awake. Wondering what he is doing. What he is thinking. If he can ever find it within himself to forgive him.

Hal turns back onto his back and spends the next few minutes watching the shadows dancing across the ceiling, not ready yet to get up and face another day of knowing how much Dominic hates him, that he prefers Alex’s company to his nowadays, and that he has pretty much turned into a complete recluse down there in the cellar, spending his days drinking disgustingly sweet tea and writing about the uneventful life of #OC925. It pains Hal more than he could ever put into words that Dominic would think of himself as a mere number in a file, a ‘Type 2’ that needs to be monitored and kept meticulous records about.

This is not what he wanted for him. This is not what he – what _they_ – should be. But then, there isn’t really a _them_ anymore, anyway.

His thoughts are harshly interrupted by a different shrill, artificial sound, but this one comes completely unexpectedly, taking Hal off guard. The only person that ever calls him on that phone—

No. He doesn’t even want to allow himself to hope, because it is nothing but false hope. It’s never actually going to happen, not after the way he spoke to him two days ago, and maintained complete radio silence since.

Hal sighs and reaches out again, lifting his phone from the bedside table with a frown on his face. He glances at the screen, only to find an unknown UK mobile number showing up. Who on Earth would be calling him? Who even has this number? He thought he could probably count the people that do on one hand, and three of them live here at the house with him.

A feeling of dread settles into Hal’s stomach as he quickly sits up and accepts the call, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks cautiously.

“Hal?” a male voice sounds through the speaker, and Hal’s frown deepens.

“Who is this?” he asks, keeping his voice guarded.

“Is this Hal?” the man asks again, a hint of trepidation in his voice. “It’s Jamie.”

Hal’s breath catches in his throat, and his chest tightens painfully. “Excuse me?” he rasps out past the rapidly growing lump in his throat.

“It’s… Jamie?” the man says again. “I was just ringing to ask if you—”

“I’m sorry,” Hal says, keeping his voice as calm and steady as he can, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

The man – Jamie – is silent for a long moment before replying, “Have I got the right number?” And after another beat, “Is this Hal?”

Hal swallows thickly in a bid to get rid of the persistent lump in his throat. Flashes of a memory – no, a _dream_ – play out in front of his mind’s eye.

_…“I’m Jamie,” the bartender says with a hesitant, almost shy smile._

_“Hal,” says Hal, returning his smile…_

_…“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hal asks, watching Jamie closely._

_“Yes,” Jamie breathes, nodding frantically as he moves in for a kiss, before Hal moves down his neck and, without preamble, sinks his fangs into the blond man’s skin…_

“Listen,” Hal says out loud, his voice barely obeying him, “I don’t know who you are, or where you’ve got this number from, but don’t call me again, you understand?”

“But, Hal—”

“I mean it,” Hal cuts in. “Don’t ever contact me again.”

“But I thought you said—”

“Good day, Jamie,” he says loudly, then quickly disconnects the call, staring at the phone in his hand in complete bewilderment before he drops it back down on the bedside table. He sits for a moment in perfect silence, then collects himself, gets up and walks over to the wardrobe, for the first time in many months pulling out his black suit.

After his disastrous conversation with Dominic on Monday he decided that he might as well go along with Tom and Alex’s plea for him to go out and earn some money again, and that evening he finally bit the bullet and asked Tom if there was an opening at the hotel.

“‘Course there is,” Tom said, a smile slowly growing on a face that seemed to have been stuck in a permanent frown for the last few months. “To be honest, since the whole thing with Hatch, we’ve been havin’ a bit of a… recruitment and retention problem.”

Hal couldn’t help the smile that formed on his own face at Tom’s faux casual use of the words ‘recruitment and retention’. “So you haven’t refilled my position?” he asked.

Tom gave him a thoughtful look. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’m doin’ your job now. That’s the whole point ‘bout bein’ assistant manager, innit, that if the manager leaves, you’re the one in charge.”

Hal nodded. “Yes, of course. So, you haven’t refilled _your_ position?”

“Nah,” Tom confirmed. “If ya want it, you can have it.” Another smile grew on his face then, this one wider, teasing, before he added, “Long as ya don’t go’n eat any of the guests.”

Hal barked out a laugh. “I would very much hope not.” Sobering up somewhat, he looked straight back at his friend and said, “I would be happy to.”

“That’s a deal, then,” Tom said, holding out his hand to him, and Hal gave it a firm shake. “Welcome back to the team, mate.”

A flicker of hunger at the bottom of his stomach pulls Hal from his thoughts, and he carefully puts the suit and white shirt down on the bed before walking around to the bedside drawer, opening it and taking out a flask, his eyes drawn to the dark red liquid inside, calling to him. Before he gets to open it, though, there is a rushed knock on the door. He is just about to answer when Alex materialises right in front of him.

“Hi, Hal,” she says, smiling at him.

“Alex,” he says, taking a deep breath, about to give her another lecture, before he changes his mind, shakes his head and says, “Never mind. You’ll never learn, whatever I say.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Alex says, her eyes darting to the flask in his hand for a split second before settling back on his face, “I just came to say that Dominic is about to have a shower in the bathroom, so please don’t go in there, okay?”

Hal’s stomach gives a little lurch. “He’s… but how is he going to get up here?”

“I’ll rent-a-ghost him in,” Alex says with a shrug.

“And he’s agreed to that?”

Alex nods. “Yep.” Then her eyes wander over to the suit laid out on the bed, and she gives him an encouraging smile. “Good luck at work today. I’m sure you’ll smash it.”

“Thanks,” Hal says, then swallows and asks, “How is he?”

Alex sighs. “Miserable, pissed off, suicidal. Take your pick of any negative emotion you could possibly imagine, and chances are he’s going through it.” She gives him a piercing look, shaking her head. “He’s a mess, Hal. And I don’t know how to help him anymore.”

A powerful ache courses through Hal’s body, and he averts his eyes. _Why do you have to fight it so much?_ he silently asks for the umpteenth time. _Why can’t you accept your new nature and move on? You learned to accept me. Now it’s time you show the same kindness to yourself._

Looking back up at Alex, he says, “Just be there for him. You’re the only one he lets close to him now, he needs you. Please don’t give up on him.”

“Of course not,” Alex says.

“Thank you,” he replies, giving her a small smile that she doesn’t return.

“Yeah,” she says. “Anyway, I should go. See you later.” And she disappears as quickly as she appeared. He puts the flask of blood back down on the bedside table, his appetite having thoroughly left him in the last few minutes. With a sigh, he turns back towards the bed and picks up his shirt, slowly doing up the buttons while in his mind he sees brilliant blue eyes, so full of pain and sadness and rage and hunger, so unlike the human he used to be.

 _Patience,_ he tells himself, not for the first time. _Give him time._ _He will get through this, eventually. He will come back to you._

And he desperately wishes he could believe himself.

***

Dominic exhales deeply and sets his laptop down on the floor next to him. Is he really ready for this? To leave this room that has been his safety net for the last four days, where everything is familiar and there are no unknown variables to content with? The bathroom only has a simple wooden door that surely wouldn’t hold him if the monster inside him only found the right incentive to break out.

His worries are silenced a moment later, however, when Alex reappears in front of him, looking all business.

“Right,” she says, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “You ready?”

“No,” he says truthfully, but gives her a small, shaky smile all the same.

“It'll be over before you know it,” Alex says, clearly mistaking his hesitation for worry about the rent-a-ghosting itself, rather then their destination.

Deciding that there is very little point in correcting her, he just nods and says, “Well, then. What do you need me to do?”

Alex takes a step towards him and gives him a tentative smile. “Nothing, really,” she says. “I'll just—” She reaches out a hand, then hesitates and lets it hover in the air next to his left elbow. A small crease forms on her brow and she asks, “Are you okay with me touching you?”

“What? Of course,” Dominic says, frowning. He had Alex touching him several times in the past, he well remembers the cold tickle on his skin left by her fingertips. But the next moment, he realises why she asked, as she gently closes her hand around his arm, and it still feels cold, but so much more solid than before, almost as if she had an actual body, and not just a collection of air molecules manipulated by a supernatural force.

He notices too late that he is staring at her when Alex gives him a small laugh and says, “Close your mouth, Blondie, unless you're planning to suck the blood out of a fly.”

“I'm not sure flies actually have blood, Alex,” he says bemusedly, prompting another laugh from Alex.

“Trust you to actually put any thought into that.” Then she narrows her eyes at him and adds, “That does make me think, though.” At his questioning look, she continues, “Can you guys actually drink animal blood?”

Dominic swallows, a frown growing on his face. “I'm not sure,” he says slowly, “but I don't think so.”

“What makes you say that?” she asks, still maintaining her loose grip on his elbow.

“I…” he trails off, unsure if he really wants to voice what is going through his head at this moment.

 _Go on,_ a small voice prompts inside his head. _Might as well start to get used to it._

Taking a deep breath, he starts again, “It’s… instinct, I suppose. When I think of… human blood,” he does his best to tone down the longing in his voice, the tremor that runs through his body at the mere thought of the red substance, “it feels exciting, exhilarating, like it's the thing I want most in the world.” He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, ashamed at his own admission. He knows that, were he still alive, his cheeks would be aflame with colour by now. As it is, he can’t feel the tell-tale heat in his skin, and he is fairly sure that he remains just as pale as he has been since he woke up. He slowly opens his eyes and chances a quick look at Alex, who looks back at him with a serious expression, nodding slightly to prompt him to continue. “The thought of animal blood, on the other hand, just brings on… disgust, revulsion, like it's something, I don’t know, poisonous.” He shakes his head. “I don't think it would be, it's just… against our nature, I assume.”

Alex shrugs. “Works in Twilight.”

“And that,” Dominic says, glaring at her, “is why I keep saying that those books are actually dangerous. There is so much misinformation, it gives people completely the wrong idea about these things.”

Alex all but giggles next to him, making him glare harder. “Lighten up, Blondie,” she says. “It’s just fiction. Nothing to be taken too seriously.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. “You, Alex, are living proof that that is not the case.”

Alex stares back at him for a long moment before saying, “You might want to rethink that last statement.”

This time, Dominic swears that he _can_ feel the lightest ghost of a blush rising into his cheeks as he gives her a mortified look. “I’m so sorry.”

Alex huffs. “Don’t worry. I’m not the one who has been throwing an ongoing hissy fit about being dead.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair, Alex,” Dominic replies, his voice going quiet, at the same time as he feels her fingers once again tightening around his elbow.

“Never mind that now,” Alex says, giving him a significant look. “We should probably get going.”

Dominic nods sharply. “Agreed.”

Without any further warning, Dominic feels himself being pulled off his feet, but at the same time he is aware that his body is not actually moving, and the world goes blurry in front of his eyes for a fraction of a second, making him feel dizzy and nauseous, before his feet hit solid ground again, and he throws out a hand to steady himself and prevent himself from falling forwards. His hand makes contact with something cold and smooth at about the level of his hips.

He still feels the ghostly touch of fingers encircling his elbow, but the next moment, the grip loosens, and he turns to his side, his vision coming back into focus just in time to see Alex rub her hands together, looking pleased with herself. “There. All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dominic exhales sharply. “I can’t exactly say that it’s my favourite thing in the world,” he gasps out as his head stops spinning and he regains his sense of direction.

Alex rolls her eyes. “Vampires. You’re such babies. Hal’s the same every single time.”

A sharp pain hits him in the chest just like every time someone uses the ‘v’ word in front of him, and he is equally relieved and worried to find that it hurts just a little bit less than before.

“Yes, well,” he says, glaring at her, “has it ever occurred to you that it might feel different for people that actually have a _body_?”

“Ooh, that’s harsh,” Alex shoots back, eyes wide, but there is the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“No harsher than what you said,” he replies, unable to keep the smirk off his own face, and it makes Alex’s smile break out fully. Dominic looks around himself, taking in the familiar bathroom. His eyes fall on the shower stall, and he feels a wholly unwelcome flutter in his stomach at the memory of his shower with Hal, what feels like a lifetime ago, even though it was only just over a week.

“I really don’t wanna know,” Alex mutters next to him, and he turns back towards her to see her watching him with a teasing expression on her face. “The way you were looking at the shower,” she explains, “I _really_ don’t wanna know what that was about.”

Dominic clears his throat. “That’s just fine with me,” he replies, and Alex laughs.

Dominic feels another smile forming on his own lips, and he is amazed and grateful to the ghost for the way she seems to be able to make him feel at ease, to forget for short moments at a time the nightmare he finds himself in.

The next moment, the smile dies on his lips as his eyes wander the other way, from Alex towards the pink sink that he is still firmly gripping with his right hand, and then up to the bathroom mirror. His breath catches in his throat as he stares into the mirror, at the reflection of the bathroom behind him. It feels completely surreal, like some kind of fairground trick. Even though he knew it was going to happen, actually seeing it makes his stomach turn.

“Oh, Dominic,” Alex says, stepping in next to him, and he can see her reflection, slightly transparent, but _there_. His, on the other hand…

“It’s all right,” he whispers, his voice not obeying him, and he finds that he can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, even though looking at it serves absolutely no purpose.

“I… I’ll leave you to it, okay?” Alex asks, and Dominic nods absentmindedly, still not taking his eyes off his non-reflection in the mirror.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex disappear, and he lets out a shaky breath, lifting his hand up to run it across his face, as if to reassure himself that he is still there. Then he shakes his head at his irrational behaviour and finally turns away from the mirror. His eyes fall on the neat stack of clean clothes and the large bath towel that Alex left for him, and he quickly gets undressed and steps into the shower. The water is uncomfortably hot at first, until he manages to adjust the heat to his new body temperature. The powerful spray feels surprisingly comforting on his skin, and he just stands and lets himself get soaked by the water for a long time.

He has all but dozed off, his mind for once blissfully empty, calm and peaceful, when suddenly, his head snaps up from where he is resting it against the tiled wall as he picks up yet another new scent, this one strong and pungent and thoroughly unpleasant. It makes an intense feeling of unease run through his body that Dominic isn’t quite sure how to place, and he can feel himself tensing up without his conscious input, ready to defend himself against the unknown threat.

Then, Tom’s voice rings through the air outside of the bathroom door. “Hal, you comin’? Don’t wanna be late on your first day, do ya?”

Dominic can’t help the slightly hysterical chuckle the escapes his mouth as he leans his forehead back against the shower wall. Werewolf. That’s what the scent is. Of course it is.

A moment later, there is another voice, fainter, coming out of what he recognises must be their— Hal’s bedroom. “You go ahead and have your breakfast, Tom,” Hal says. Dominic’s heart stutters out an extra beat at hearing his voice, and he inwardly curses his treacherous body to still react to the traitor like that. “I… just have to do something first, I’ll meet you downstairs when we’re both done.”

“Yeah, I know what ya gotta _do_ , mate,” Tom says, distaste in his voice. It takes Dominic only a split second to get his meaning, and it makes the hunger flare up painfully inside of him. He tries his best to ignore the rest of the conversation, and instead reaches for the shampoo and busies himself with washing his hair, then rinses it and starts soaping up his body.

He is just about to rinse himself off again when he is hit by another surge of hunger so violent that it makes him double over, and he clenches his teeth tightly to keep himself from groaning. The most incredible scent wafts over from the direction of Hal’s bedroom, and Dominic has to fight the powerful urge to jump out of the shower, break the bathroom door down and run across the hall to get closer to that scent. He swallows compulsively as his mouth starts watering uncontrollably, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden, unbearable brightness. He reaches out and tightly grips the shower controls with both hands to ground himself in place, holding his breath and counting silently in his head, _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

The counting reminds him of something else, and that thought is not at all helpful in his current state, filling his mind with images of sharp white fangs and deep red liquid and oh, how he wants that, to sink his own fangs into someone’s neck, to taste the warm liquid inside…

A deep moan escapes his lips, reverberating around the small shower stall, and his eyes fly open as the sound jolts him back to reality. His nostrils flare in search of that delicious scent, but there is barely a trace of it left now. Hal must have drained the last of the blood from the flask. Dominic swallows and turns off the water, then reaches for the shower door and slides it open. The room is filled with thick steam despite the relatively lower water temperature, and Dominic takes some comfort from the steamed up mirror. He quickly dries himself and gets dressed in the blue t-shirt and black jogging bottoms that Alex had laid out for him.

Then his eyes dart over to his shaver next to the sink, and a heavy weight drops into his stomach when he realises his latest predicament. He wipes the steam away from the mirror and takes another long look at the reflection of the empty room, so utterly useless for his current task.

“How the fuck do you do it, Hal?” he asks quietly into the room, almost jumping out of his skin when there is an answer from the direction of the doorway.

“Practice,” Hal says, leaning against the wide open doorframe and looking at Dominic with sad hazel eyes.

Dominic swallows repeatedly as he stares at Hal, an unsettling mixture of resentment and longing welling up inside of him. “What are you doing here?” he asks huskily, backing away as far as he can from the door, and from Hal, whose enticing scent is already starting to play tricks on his mind again.

“I… wanted to see how you were getting on,” Hal says quietly, averting his eyes. “Alex told me you were in here and I… I just wanted to see how you were.” He looks up at Dominic then, looks straight into his eyes, and says, “I miss you.”

Dominic huffs, even as there is an unmistakable flutter in his stomach at Hal’s words. “That’s a shame, Hal, but perhaps you should have thought about that before you turned me into a monster.”

Hal sighs. “For the last time, Dominic, I didn’t have a choice,” he says forcefully. He takes a step into the bathroom and closes and locks the door behind him, and something about it makes Dominic’s hackles rise, but he takes a deep breath to calm himself, standing stock still on the other side of the room. Hal turns back towards him, fixes stormy eyes on him, and says, “You talk to me about feeling violated, about not having had your say before I made the decision to save you—”

“Save me!” Dominic scoffs, but Hal ignores him and continues.

“—but the truth is that you were bleeding out on the kitchen floor, Dominic. You were unconscious, there is no way I could’ve asked you if I tried. And why were you there, bleeding out in the first place? Because _you_ had made a decision without consulting _me_ about… sacrificing your own life. For me. I think I made it very clear to you at the time how foolish I thought that decision was, but somehow that was _yours_ to make, even though it affected me just as much as you. I never asked to be saved, Dominic! I never would’ve wanted you to do that to yourself. I never wanted to be put into a situation where I had to make that decision, because you were dying in front of me _yet again_!”

“But that’s the difference, isn’t it, Hal?” Dominic snaps back, his voice trembling. “You’re right, I couldn’t face letting you go either. But I sacrificed _my own_ life to save you. I didn’t go and… curse someone else’s. You had _no right_ to do this to me, Hal! And I don’t care how many times you try to justify your actions to me, it’s not going to make a blind bit of difference!”

Hal stares at him in perfect silence for a moment, then shakes his head and says, “Fine. Have it your way. I’m off out now, so…” He trails off, and his gaze wanders over to the shaver by the sink before coming back to rest on Dominic. “Close your eyes and rely on your touch and muscle memory. You already know how to do it, you just don’t realise it yet.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turns around, unlocks the door and swiftly steps through, and Dominic can hear it locking again from the outside, before Hal’s footsteps retreat down the stairs. He lets out a shaky breath, takes one more swift look at the shaver and decides that now is not the time. The stubble will just have to wait another day.

“Alex!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, and a moment later, the ghost appears in front of him. “Can I go back now please?” he asks, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Sure thing, Blondie,” she says, and he is grateful to her for not mentioning his unshaven appearance. He looks up at her and gives her a small smile as she walks over and once again takes hold of his right elbow.

She is just about to take them back downstairs when Dominic says, “Wait!”, and Alex reflexively lets go of him, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Something wrong?” she asks.

“No,” he replies, eyes darting towards the bathroom door. “I was just… I was wondering…” He looks back towards her, a small crease forming on his brow. “Hal and Tom have left, haven’t they?”

“Yeah, far as I know,” she says. “They were just about to go when you called me up here.”

“Has the postman been?” Dominic asks next, and Alex gives him a funny look, but nods all the same.

“Yes.”

“In that case,” Dominic says, gaze once again flicking to the door, “would you mind if we… went back the traditional way?”

Alex’s brow creases. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m not being funny, but you were supposed to be down in the cellar for at least two weeks, and it’s only been four days—”

“I’m sure,” Dominic says, giving her a serious look. “I’ll be fine. Please, Alex.”

She looks at him for a moment, biting her lip, then sighs and says, “All right. But I’ll keep a hand on you just in case, so I can’t rent-a-ghost you away if anything happens.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

The next moment, Alex is gone, and he can hear the door being unlocked from the other side before it swings open.

“Let’s go,” Alex says, and he steps across the threshold into the hallway. Alex’s hand comes to rest lightly on his forearm as he stands still for a moment, looking down the hallway towards Tom’s room, before his eyes wander across to the closed door with a brass number ‘4’ on it. A lump rises in his throat once more, and he quickly averts his eyes. “Come on,” Alex prompts him again, gently pushing against his arm, and he sets himself in motion, down the flight of stairs and into the downstairs hallway. They are about to go down the second flight of stairs when Dominic sees through the open door into the kitchen, and he clears his throat loudly.

“Alex?” he asks tentatively, not sure whether to even ask the question that is going through his head.

“Hmm?” the ghost replies.

He turns towards her and gives her a questioning look. “Do you think… would it be okay if I… stayed up here for a bit? Perhaps had a cup of tea in the kitchen or something? I… really don’t want to sit down there in that empty room again just yet.”

Alex gives him a long, calculating look. “And you promise me you’re not going to try anything stupid?”

He nods with conviction. “I promise.”

Alex sighs. “Okay then.”

Tightening her grip around his arm, she leads him through the door into the kitchen. Dominic’s eyes flick over to the counter, then to the floor, and suddenly his thoughts are flooded with memories of knives and voices and blood, blood, blood… and Hal… Hal was there, whispering to him… and more blood, but this was different… it was on his tongue, and in his mouth, and he _wanted_ it… wanted more of it… and he still does… he still does…

“Dominic!” Alex’s voice drifts into his consciousness, as if from far away, and suddenly there is a feeling like an ice block hitting his face, and he looks up to find that Alex is standing right in front of him, a look of fear and worry on her face, and he realises that what he felt was the feeling of her slapping his cheek. “Jesus, Dominic, what the hell was that?”

“I—” he croaks, then clears his throat and continues, “I’m sorry, I… got a bit carried away.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” she says. “Could you… maybe… I don’t know, put those away?” she asks then, nodding towards this face, and he doesn’t get what she means at first, but then he runs his tongue over his teeth and catches the tips of two razor-sharp fangs.

“Of course,” he says, eyes wide and mortified at the thought that Alex has seen him like this, before he squeezes them shut and concentrates hard on making his fangs retract. Eventually, he feels them disappearing back into his gums, and he opens his eyes and looks back at Alex. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex says, but he can clearly hear the unease in her voice. “I guess it’s harder for you to control it, isn’t it, being a newborn and all that.”

He nods jerkily. “I believe so, yes.” His eyes wander back to the floor in front of the counter. “Being here… it brought on memories,” he explains. Alex follows his gaze, and gasps when she connects the dots.

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sorry, Dominic, maybe we should’ve gone to the living room first.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, giving her a small smile as he tears his eyes away from the place where he died and walks over to the counter, putting the kettle on. “But I certainly could do with that cup of tea now.”

Alex turns around to him with a small, disbelieving laugh. “You really haven’t changed all that much, you know.”

“I want to believe that, Alex,” he says. “I really do.”

But even as he says the words, the hunger flares up again, uncontrollably, relentlessly, a constant, burning pain deep inside of him that acts as a permanent reminder of the fact that _everything_ has changed. 


	4. Duty Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, and thank you all so very much for reading!

I think your bruise was understated  
‘Cause you can't feel this anymore  
It's getting bluer and you can't keep faking  
That you can't feel this anymore

\- Death Cab for Cutie, “Your Bruise”

 

Natasha’s tired eyes come up to the large clock on the wall above the fireplace, and her fingers stop their incessant tapping against the wooden desk to hide the yawn she has been fighting for the last ten minutes. It’s already quarter past eight. Tom should have arrived to relieve her from reception duty half an hour ago.

She can’t remember ever having felt this tired before in her life, and there is a quiet but insistent niggling voice inside her head that urges her to do something about this tiredness. Something other than sleep. Something that actually helps.

But no… she is over this. There is no place for those kinds of thoughts in her head anymore. Just because Hal can’t seem to ever get on top of his addiction, doesn’t mean that other people are as weak and useless as that.

 _Blood addiction is different, Tasha,_ Dominic’s voice pipes up inside her head, in full lecturing mode, and despite her tiredness, it manages to put a smile on her face. _It’s more powerful than any other known addiction, and can never be fully overcome._

Not that that should give the bloodsucking loser an excuse to actually _feed_ _from Dominic_ , but that’s a whole different story, one that she is still not comfortable even thinking about.

The sound of the front door opening and closing interrupts her thoughts, and her face lights up when she sees Tom entering the foyer, eyes darting over towards her immediately.

“Tasha,” he calls, walking over to the reception desk, a sheepish smile on his lips. “So sorry we’re late.”

 _We?_ she thinks vaguely, but doesn’t follow the thought any further as Tom reaches across the desk and gently cups her face in his hand. She leans in to meet him in a good morning kiss when, out of the corner of her eye, she notices another person entering the foyer, hanging back as if trying not to interrupt, but her heart nonetheless skips a beat as she recognises him at once. Speak of the proverbial devil.

“What’s he doing here?” she asks darkly, nodding towards Hal.

“He’s goin’ to work here again,” Tom explains in a matter-of-fact tone, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to invite your vampire best mate to work at a hotel with you. A hotel full of humans.

“That’s… great,” she says, faking a smile, just as Hal steps up to the reception desk next to Tom.

“Hello, Tasha,” he says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes,” she replies in a fake cheery tone, even as she can’t help but inwardly frown at how tired and down he looks, so different from when she saw him at the house four days ago. “You too, Hal.”

“Don’t worry, Tasha,” he says, giving her a weary smile. “You don’t have to pretend to like me. Dominic isn’t here now.”

“I don’t just do it for him,” she retorts, glancing down at the guest register on the desk in front of her. She takes a deep breath, then looks back up again into Hal’s eyes and adds, “I _want_ to like you. Dominic… he’s the closest thing I’ve got to family. He’s important to me. You know he is.” She pauses and gives him a meaningful look, and he answers it with a tiny nod. She sighs and continues, “And you’re his boyfriend, and I know how much you mean to him, so… I really should _try_ to like you. It’s just…”

“You can’t look past the fact that I’m a vampire,” he says quietly, and there is something, an undertone in his voice that tells her there is more to his statement than she immediately realises.

“I can’t look past the fact that you drink his blood,” she counters.

He doesn’t say anything immediately, but just stands there and gives her an unreadable look. Eventually, he clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Tom pipes up loudly, clearly trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. “Tasha, you look dead on yer feet. Why don’t ya go an’ get some rest, Hal an’ I’ve got it from here.”

Natasha gives Hal one more fleeting look, then sighs and says, “Yeah, all right.” She gets to her feet, a sudden wave of dizziness rooting her to the spot for a fraction of a second before the stars clear from in front of her eyes, and she makes her way around the reception desk to come to stand in front of Tom and Hal. “Am I gonna see you this evening?” she asks Tom, who gives her a shy smile and a nod.

“Yeah, I’ll come ‘round after me shift. I can cook ya dinner.”

“Aww, I’d love that,” Natasha replies, standing on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to Tom’s lips. She can feel him smiling into the kiss, and on an impulse, she moves up higher on her tiptoes and pecks the tip of his nose. “And I love you,” she whispers, the words meant only for him, even though she has learned enough about vampires over the years that she knows Hal heard every single word. It doesn’t matter. _He_ doesn’t matter.

Finally pulling away from Tom, she nonetheless can’t stop her eyes from wandering over towards Hal again, who is looking down at the floor in front of him with a thoughtful expression on his face. As if he can feel her eyes on him – and to be honest, he probably can – his head snaps up and he gives her an apprehensive look.

“It is good to see you, Tasha,” he repeats in a serious tone.

“Uh huh,” she replies, brow creasing slightly, when a sudden thought pops into her head. “If you’re here, does that mean that Dominic has gone back to work as well?”

“No,” says Hal, and a dark shadow falls over his face for a split second, before he can hide it away behind a more neutral expression. “He’s… at home.”

“Huh. Maybe I can pop in and say hi,” she muses, almost to herself. “Since I’m already in Barry and—”

“No!” Hal and Tom call out in unison, and she looks back and forth between the two of them with raised eyebrows.

“Why not?”

“He—” Tom starts, but never gets the chance to finish as Hal cuts in, “He’s unwell.”

“Unwell how?” Natasha asks, narrowing her eyes at Hal.

“He’s… got the flu,” Hal says after a short pause, and Tom nods emphatically next to him.

“Yeah, bad bout o’ the flu as well. Good thing I’m not ‘round him for most of today or I’d end up catchin’ it.”

“Oh no,” Natasha says, looking back and forth between Tom and Hal. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope he’s all right again soon… Hold on,” she adds, frowning as another thought materialises in her mind. “You’re telling me that Dominic’s got the flu, and a bad bout of it as well, and he’s all alone at home while the two of you have gone off to work?”

“Alex is there with him,” Hal says quickly, and she doesn’t miss the bitter undertone in his voice as he says it. There is definitely something up. Something is not right. Have Hal and Dominic had a fight?

Deciding that there is absolutely no point in prying, she gives Hal a small smile and says, “Of course. I keep forgetting that he can talk to her.”

“Yes,” Hal replies with a forced looking smile of his own. “They seem to have developed quite the friendship.”

Natasha can’t help the small laugh that bursts out of her at the thought. “Dominic being friends with a ghost. If anyone suggested it to me a year ago, I would’ve thought they’ve completely lost it.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, and his voice also carries an undertone that she can’t quite place. “A lot of things have changed since then.”

“Indeed,” Hal agrees, throwing his friend an unreadable look.

Natasha can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong. “Are you guys… okay?” she asks as nonchalantly as possible, but she doesn’t miss the way Hal tenses up and schools his features into a picture of perfect neutrality, while Tom fidgets on the spot, his eyes darting restlessly around the room.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Tom says. “Why ya ask—”

“You are looking very tired, Natasha,” Hal interrupts, clearly not wanting the conversation to continue. “Why don’t you go and get some rest?”

She sighs, deciding that now is not the time to keep pressing the issue. “Yes, fine,” she says and, turning towards Tom, adds, “I’ll see you this evening. Macaroni cheese would be great.” And with a smile and another quick peck on the lips, she turns away and makes her way through the foyer and out into the chilly December morning.

***

Dominic sits at the kitchen table, both hands folded around a hot mug of tea and his eyes fixed on Alex, who is sitting across from him and telling him all about the time they found the house being haunted by an insufferable Victorian ghost child.

“Of course it turns out that Oliver was really sent by the men with sticks and rope to get to me,” she says, giving Dominic a meaningful look, “because Hatch wanted me out of the way.”

“That makes sense, he tried to break up the trinity,” he says, when suddenly, he hears the familiar, yet strangely unexpected sound of his phone ringing from the direction of the cellar. He jumps up from the table in a swift, fluid movement that surprises even himself and, the tea all but forgotten, sprints across the kitchen and down the flight of stairs towards the cellar door.

“Dominic, wait!” Alex calls behind him, and before he even makes it all the way down the stairs, she appears in front of him, blocking the door and giving him a stern look. “That was not part of our agreement,” she says. “You can’t just… run off like that.”

“I’m sorry, Alex, but could you please get out of my way?” he says, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice, while the phone behind the heavy door keeps ringing incessantly. With a sigh and a nod, Alex steps aside, and Dominic pulls the door open, eyes darting around the room until he locates the phone on the floor next to the mattress.

“I wonder who’s calling you,” Alex voices his very own thoughts, and he nods, bending down to pick up the device and glancing at the screen. His eyes widen when he sees the caller ID.

Looking up at Alex, he says, “I’ve got to take this, sorry,” and with a brisk nod of her head, the ghost leaves the room, and he can hear the locks being put back into place from the outside. His hand trembles as he lifts the phone up to his ear, and he takes a deep breath and says, “Arthur?”

“Mr Rook!” Arthur’s familiar voice rings through the speaker, and Dominic feels his throat closing up. “We haven’t heard from you in three days, so I’m just ringing to see how you were? I thought you were planning to return to work soon, sir?”

“Er, I, erm…” He stops, swallows, squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to collect his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Arthur,” he says after a moment. “I’ve had… an unfortunate setback. I don’t think I’ll be able to come back… for a little while.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir,” Arthur says, his voice full of concern. “Especially with everything that’s been happening.”

“What do you mean?” Dominic asks, alarm bells ringing in his head.

“Haven’t you heard?”

A frown slowly builds on Dominic’s face. “Heard what, Arthur?”

“The Type 1 attacks, sir,” Arthur says seriously. “It’s been happening all over the country, at an alarming rate. We are starting to believe that this can’t possibly be the work of just a single rogue Type 1. It almost seems like…”

“Like what?” Dominic asks, his frown deepening.

“Like it’s an organised group, steadily gaining new members, that is targeting Type 2s across the country,” Arthur explains. “In the last three days alone, there have been five attacks on Type 2s in different parts of England and Wales, and an additional one in Glasgow. And while I’m no more of a fan of those creatures than you are, sir, I am worried that the larger the scale of this operation, the more likely it will be that someone will get caught in the crossfire. Not to mention the extra manpower we will need to cover it all up.”

Dominic’s chest tightens painfully at Arthur’s words. “That… does indeed sound worrying,” he says tensely.

“So you understand my concern at your continued absence, sir,” Arthur continues. “We are starting to think that this could well be the largest conflict between different groups of supernaturals since the vampire-werewolf war of the early twentieth century, and we could really do with your expertise in this matter, sir.”

“I’m… really not sure how much help I would be to you in my current state, Arthur,” Dominic croaks out, closing his eyes at the painful accuracy of his words. Arthur, however, seems to have other ideas.

“With all due respect, Mr Rook,” he says emphatically, “I appreciate that your recovery is important, but it has been more than three months now. I saw you in the Archive the other day, when you were bringing in the Type 2 to speak to the children – that’s another matter I need speak to you about, by the way – and pardon me for saying so, sir, but you were looking well. Healthy. I don’t understand—”

“As I said already,” Dominic bites out, “there has been an unfortunate setback. Believe me when I tell you that I would much rather be back at work myself, Arthur, but I’m afraid that is simply not possible at the moment.”

Arthur is silent for a moment after his outburst, before he hears the other man clear his throat and he says in a quiet, tentative voice, “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what kind of setback exactly?”

Dominic takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and says, “As a matter of fact, Arthur, I do mind. I don’t believe I am under any obligation to discuss the details of my personal health issues with you.”

“Of course, sir,” Arthur says immediately, and Dominic feels a stab of guilt at the rueful tone of his voice. “I apologise for overstepping the line.”

“No, please, Arthur, I’m… sorry for snapping at you,” Dominic says quietly. “It’s just… this is a source of great personal frustration for me, so I’d rather discuss it as little as possible. I’m sure you understand.”

“Completely, sir,” Arthur replies. “There is no doubt in my mind that you will return to us as soon as you are ready.”

“Naturally,” Dominic says, even as the word almost doesn’t make it past the tightness in his throat.

“While I have got you on the phone, though, sir,” Arthur continues, and Dominic can’t suppress the quiet sigh that escapes his lips, “I wanted to talk to you about the Type 2 children.”

“What about them?” Dominic asks.

Arthur lets out a deep sigh. “It seems like the talk your… Type 2 acquaintance gave left quite the impression on the group,” he says. “They have been pestering the men to try and get him to come back in almost daily since last week, believe it or not. The mother was also quite impressed with the way he handled the children, and has been saying that she would, and I quote, ‘love seeing the two of them again’. Meaning you and the Type 2, sir,” he adds, and Dominic can’t suppress the small, slightly painful smile that forms on his lips.

“Yes, I gathered as much, Arthur,” he says. “Well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to bring him in again any time soon. Could you please let Fleur and the kids know, so they don’t keep wondering why we don’t get back to them?”

“Of course, Mr Rook.”

“And also tell Fleur that she can call me anytime if she has any concerns or questions,” Dominic adds.

“Yes, sir,” Arthur replies, then hesitates for a moment before he speaks again. “Sir?”

“Yes, Arthur?”

“I was meaning to ask… I noticed that you and… Fleur… that the two of you seem quite…” he trails off, clears his throat, and Dominic’s eyes grow wide as he anticipates the older man’s next words.

When there is nothing but silence on the other end, he quietly prompts, “Quite?”

“Sorry, sir,” Arthur says and clears his throat again. “What I meant to say, and I know it’s really none of my business, Mr Rook, but…. it seemed to me that you and her are quite… close, and I was just wondering…”

A slightly hysterical laugh escapes Dominic’s lips. “No, Arthur. We’re… really not.”

“It would be okay if you were, though, sir!” Arthur blurts out, and Dominic laughs again, shaking his head. “I mean, there wouldn’t be a problem, if that’s what you’re worried about. And a man like yourself, in the position that you’re in, I can understand that you might find it difficult to meet someone outside of this world, because it must be difficult to keep so many secrets. I was lucky in that respect, you see, because my Maggie and I were already married when I started the job, and I was confident that I could share some of the secrets with her. Not that I’ve been giving out confidential information, mind! But what I was trying to say—”

“It’s all right, Arthur, I understand,” Dominic says, a wide smile on his face. “But I can assure you that there is nothing of the sort between myself and Fleur.”

“Right,” Arthur says, sounding embarrassed all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have a assumed… I should get back on with my filing, sir.”

“Yes, don’t let me keep you, Arthur,” he replies, the smile on his face turning melancholic as he thinks of the many times he saw the older man meticulously filing away folders and boxes of evidence. For him, the image of Arthur at work has basically been synonymous with the Archive ever since he was a small boy.

“Thank you, Mr Rook. And I wish you a speedy recovery.”

“I…” There is a dull ache in his chest when he once again thinks about the fact that there is no recovery from this. There is no cure. He will never go back, for the rest of his eternal life. “Thank you, Arthur. Keep me posted.”

“Of course, sir,” the older man says, and then the call disconnects.

Dominic slides down the wall behind him until he sits in his usual spot on the floor, dropping the phone down on the floor next to him. Despite his best efforts, he can’t stop thinking about one thing Arthur said to him.

_“I can understand that you might find it difficult to meet someone outside of this world.”_

And he thinks, _I didn’t need to. I’ve already found someone_ inside _of this world._

But even the thought itself is painful, causing a deep, dull ache in the centre of his chest where his dead heart resides, and for a moment he marvels at the fact that he is even still able to feel this at all, because he is _dead_ , he is a _monster_ , and monsters don’t have _feelings_.

Or so his father would have him believe.

Hal… Hal has always been proof to the contrary for him. Proof that vampires _do_ have feelings, that they _are_ capable of love… and his own aching heart, his own longing, still, after everything he has done, for the one that betrayed him, that hurt him so terribly, is the final, undeniable piece of evidence.

***

“We’re gonna have to tell her eventually, mate,” Tom says, a crease between his brows as he gives Hal a thoughtful look.

“I don’t think it’s our call to tell her, Tom,” Hal replies, shaking his head. His eyes wander around the hotel foyer, taking in the place that used to be so familiar to him, that now feels like he is intruding on something he is not a part of anymore. “I think it will be up to Dominic to decide when and how to tell her.”

“Yeah, if he don’t go and rip her throat out first,” Tom grumbles, and Hal gives him a sharp look.

“Of course he won’t.”

Tom frowns. “How can ya possibly be sure ‘bout that?”

“Because…” Hal pauses, a deep sigh escaping his lips. After a long moment, he continues, “You’re right, Tom. I can’t be. I just… hope that he will be better able to control himself than that. If we can persuade him to have some of the bottled blood—”

“Shh! Keep your voice down!” Tom urges, and Hal turns around just in time to see two of the guests, a middle aged couple that look like they might be on an early Christmas break, walking up to the reception desk. Directing a bright smile at the couple, Tom says, “Good morning, how can I help ya?”

“Oh, we’re just off out to enjoy a brisk walk in the winter breeze,” the man says, snaking his arm around the woman’s waist, and she also beams over at the two of them.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” she says, looking Hal up and down in a not-so-subtle way. “Are you new?”

Hal throws nervous glances towards her husband, who appears to be blissfully oblivious of his wife’s behaviour. “I am indeed, madam. Just started today,” Hal says with a polite smile that he hopes nonetheless communicates clearly that he is not in the slightest bit interested. “Enjoy your walk.”

“I’m sure we will,” the man replies with a nod towards Hal. “There’s nothing quite like a bit of fresh sea air to get yourself going in the morning.”

“I hope we’ll see you around,” the woman adds, throwing Hal an honest-to-God _wink_ , before her husband ushers her across the foyer and towards the front doors.

“Seriously, how d’ya do it, mate?” Tom asks disbelievingly once the couple are safely out of earshot. “Is it some kinda vampire charm thing or summat?”

Hal barks out a laugh. “No, Tom. I told you before, I’ve just got natural charm. That’s all it is.” He shakes his head with an exasperated smile. “Vampire charm.”

“Well, yeah,” Tom argues, giving him a serious look. “’S what ya always see in the movies, innit?”

Hal rolls his eyes at him. “Perhaps you shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV, Tom.”

“I don't!” Tom argues, and Hal laughs again.

“Anyway, I don't know what you're complaining about,” he says after a moment. “You and Natasha seem happy enough.”

“We are,” Tom says with conviction. “I weren't complainin’, not really.”

“I'm glad you're happy,” Hal says with a smile.

“Thanks, mate,” Tom replies. “I’m really startin’ to think she might be the one, ya know.”

“You think?” Hal asks, surprised by the serious turn the conversation has suddenly taken.

“Yeah. I… can I ask ya somethin’?” Tom asks, brow creasing in thought.

Hal gives him an encouraging smile. “Of course, Tom.”

“Well… ya see… the thing is,” he pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues, “how d’ya know?”

“How do you know what?” Hal asks, not entirely sure where Tom is going with this, even though he does have a pretty good idea.

“That someone is ‘the one’,” Tom says, giving him a pensive look.

Hal looks back at him with an equally thoughtful expression for a long time. It doesn’t escape him that what Tom is asking him is not something he is actually able to answer. He has never in his five hundred years found himself in a situation where he committed himself to a relationship for all eternity. He has so far outlived every single one of his partners, even the ones he decided to marry. Tom’s life, on the other hand, is only a snapshot in comparison, and when he talks about ‘the one’, that is really what it is.

“I guess,” he starts slowly, “deep down, you just know. You know if someone is right for you. There are no hard and fast rules about it, I suppose, because everyone is different, but it just comes down to the way they make you feel.”

“What’s it like for you?” Tom asks, and Hal looks up into his friend’s curious, puppy dog eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he says, “I don’t know.”

“What do ya mean, ya don’t know?”

Hal looks away, in the direction of the dining room, which is slowly filling with guests arriving to have their breakfast. “I’m not sure I ever found ‘the one’, Tom. It’s different for me.”

“‘Cause ya live forever, ya mean?”

Hal nods. “Yes.”

“What ‘bout Dominic then?” Tom asks next, and Hal’s head snaps up sharply, giving his friend a piercing look.

“What about him?”

Tom frowns at him. “Well, ya made him into a vampire, mate. That’s a pretty big commitment if I’ve ever seen one.”

Hal’s heart clenches painfully in his chest. “He wouldn’t agree with that assessment,” he says, then clears his throat loudly, inclines his head towards the dining room, where a group of maroon clad waiters and waitresses swarm around busy tables, and announces, “I should go and introduce myself to the new staff. I don’t recognise half of the faces in there, so I should make sure they know who I am.”

“Sure, I’ll come with ya,” Tom says, following him through to the dining room.

***

Natasha opens the large wooden door and lets herself into her – Dominic’s – flat, stifling another yawn as the door falls shut behind her. She really needs to get some rest. Usually she would have a bite to eat after getting back from a night shift, but today the tiredness is actually making her feel slightly nauseous, and she makes her way straight to the bedroom and gets changed into her pyjamas before falling onto the king sized bed.

Most days she doesn’t really think about the fact that this is for all intents and purposes _Dominic’s_ bed. Some time, years ago, that thought would have thrilled her beyond anything she could possibly imagine, but… things have changed since then. Dominic has Hal now, and she has Tom.

She cares about Tom, she really does. He is sweet and funny and loving, and everything she could possibly ask for in a boyfriend. And even though Dominic will always inhabit a very special place inside her heart, deep down she knows that they would never have worked out.

Today, however, the thought reminds her of the fact that Dominic is unwell at home, and while she doesn’t fancy catching the flu from him, there is nothing stopping her from giving him a little bit of long-distance TLC nonetheless. Smiling to herself, she reaches over and picks up her phone from the bedside table. She quickly scrolls through her contacts, her finger hovering for a short moment over Dominic’s name before she presses her down on it to dial the number.

The phone barely rings twice before Dominic picks up. “Hello?” he asks, and Natasha rolls her eyes slightly at his serious, businesslike tone, when he knows full well that it is her calling him.

“Hey, stranger,” she says, and is she imagining things, or is there a slight hitch of breath on the other end of the line?

“Tasha,” Dominic says in a voice that is equal parts subdued and tense, and she frowns.

“Wow, don’t sound so excited to hear from me,” she says.

Dominic sighs, “I’m sorry, Tasha, I’m—”

“Don’t worry, I know. Hal told me you’ve got the flu.”

“The—” Dominic starts, then abruptly cuts off, clears his throat, and continues, “Yes, sorry. I, er… it’s… glandular fever, actually.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, and a very undignified giggle escapes her mouth that she blames entirely on her tiredness. “I didn’t realise you could catch mono from a vampire.”

There is another hitch in Dominic’s breath, definitely this time, and he is silent for a moment before he replies, “You can’t.”

“Ooh, who have you been kissing then? Is there something I should know?” Natasha teases, despite the uneasy feeling that is spreading in her gut at Dominic’s unusually stiff behaviour, even for Dominic’s standards. Might be the infection, she decides. She’s never had it herself, but she knows people that did, and it can definitely knock you for six.

“No,” Dominic says flatly.

“But you do know why they call it the kissing disease, right?”

“I haven’t been kissing anyone, Tasha!” Dominic snaps, and her eyes widen at his sudden outburst.

“All right, sorry, don’t bite my head off,” she says. “I was just trying to cheer you up.”

Dominic sighs. “I’m… sorry, Tasha. I guess I have been a bit miserable.”

“I don’t blame you,” Natasha says. “You must be feeling rough.”

“Yes,” Dominic agrees, a little bit too emphatically for her liking. For the second time today she gets the distinct feeling that something is not right. That she is most definitely missing something.

“Is Alex looking after you well?” she asks.

Dominic’s voice is a little less tense when he replies, “Yes, thank you, she’s been great.”

“That’s good,” Natasha says. “I have to admit, I wasn’t impressed with Hal when he turned up at the hotel and told me you were unwell at home. I mean, isn’t he supposed to be looking after you?”

“It’s all right,” Dominic says. “I… wanted him to go. It’s good for him to get out and about again, he’s been cooped up inside with me for far too long. And like you said, Alex is here, so…” he trails off, and Natasha can’t help the frown that creeps into her face.

“Dominic, are you guys okay?” she asks, and she can tell he is about to reply when she adds, “Be honest with me, please.”

His answer takes a fraction of a second too long, and his voice is a little bit too upbeat when he replies, “Yes, of course, Tasha. Why wouldn’t we be?”

The nausea in her gut flares up to a new level, and she swallows down the bile that is rising into her throat. “He’s not… hurting you, is he?” she asks, and again, it takes Dominic just a split second too long to reply.

“No, Tasha, of course he isn’t. What brought all this on?”

Natasha huffs. “The fact that I know you’re lying to me, for one. But I also know that you’re way too stubborn to tell me what’s really going on, so I’m not going to ask you again. Just, please, promise me you’ll be careful. And, please…” She closes her eyes, not wanting to say the next words, but knowing that she has to, “don’t let him bite you while you’re unwell.”

“Don’t worry,” he replies, his voice suddenly bitter. “I won’t.” Then he lets out a deep sigh and adds, “And I haven’t been lying to you.”

“Please, Dominic, don’t bother,” she shoots back. “I’ve just got home from a night shift, I’m dead tired, and I could really do without your bullshit right now.”

“Fair enough,” Dominic says quietly. “You go get some sleep, Tasha. I’m sure you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Thanks,” she says, unable to stay mad at him for any length of time. “I hope you feel better soon, too, but I heard that glandular fever can take, like, a month or so to get better.”

“Yes, that’s right,” he confirms, voice sounding slightly strangled, and he clears his throat. “Sleep well, Tasha.”

She drops the phone onto the covers next to her when he hangs up, and turns over onto her side to find a more comfortable position to lie in. The truth is that she is feeling quite spectacularly sick by now, but she tries her best to suppress the feeling, as well as the worried thoughts that keep swirling around in her head, and after only a few short minutes the tiredness wins, and she drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Dominic lets the phone drop into his lap, his vision blurring as he stares, wide-eyed and unblinking, at the opposite wall.

_“I didn’t realise you could catch mono from a vampire.”_

Natasha’s voice plays on repeat in his head, and his stomach lurches painfully.

_No, Tasha, you can’t. But you can catch vampirism from a vampire._

He lets out a deep, shaky breath, and he can’t stop the single tear that spills over form his left eye and slowly rolls down his cheek as another thought invades his mind, digs its claws in and grabs hold.

_She’s going to hate me._

_I’m a monster, I’m her worst nightmare, the very thing I swore to protect her from._

_And she’s going to find out._

_And she’s going to hate me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for all the doom and gloom in this chapter, and please take my word for it that it won't stay like this for much longer! I'm setting a lot of things up in this chapter, and we are going to get into a bit more actual plot pretty soon, so bear with me :)


	5. Cold Moon, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> So I've done it again... I seem to keep trying to get too much story into each chapter, and then I end up having to split them in half. So here I give you Part I, but Part II is already mostly finished, and should be posted some time this weekend.
> 
> The chapter title refers to the December full moon, which is traditionally called the 'Cold Moon'.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nobody warned you  
Nobody told you to make up your mind  
Nobody told you  
That I could just waltz through and shake up your style

\- Interpol, “Wrecking Ball”

 

Hal looks up from the tap handles he has been dusting off when he hears footsteps approaching, and the unmistakable scent of werewolf fills the air around him.

“Hey, how ya gettin’ on, mate?” Tom asks as he walks up to the bar, looking all business in his black suit and red tie, almost identical to Hal’s, and Hal can’t help but smile fondly at his friend.

“All right, I think, thanks,” he says, watching as Tom gives him a scrutinising look. 

“You sure?” Tom asks, and there is something about the way he speaks, the way he looks, that gives off an air of trepidation, mixed with a tiny bit of excitement. It is a look that Hal has seen countless times before, and the meaning of it is not lost on him.

It is a full moon night tonight. Which means that Tom will leave Hal on his own in the hotel for the first time since he started working again three days ago. They never actually talked about it, but Hal noticed it as soon as Tom handed him his rota for the week, pleased and slightly apprehensive at the same time that his friend would place so much trust in him so soon.

His smile still firmly in place, he says, “Yes, Tom, I’m fine. I’ll be all right tonight, don’t worry about me. You just… take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, all right, mate. Don’t go all mushy on me,” Tom says with a small teasing smile, and Hal narrows his eyes at him.

“I wasn’t going ‘mushy’, I was merely expressing concern for my friend who is going to change into a big ugly monster out in the woods tonight.”

Tom scowls at him. “Oi, bat brain, less of the ugly! And anyway, I’m not—” he cuts himself off, shakes his head. “Never mind. Thanks for the concern, man.”

“You’re welcome,” Hal says, but before he has a chance to ask what exactly his friend meant by _‘I’m not’_ , Tom has already left. 

Hal frowns and goes back to the task at hand, running the dusting cloth over one of the tap handles, when one of the guests, the middle-aged woman he saw with her husband in the foyer on his first day, walks up to the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools.

“Hello again…” she pauses, scrunches her eyes together in an obvious effort to read his name badge, “…Hal. What an unusual name, Hal, for a young man such as yourself,” she adds, tilting her head slightly to the side as she regards him carefully.

Keeping his eyes firmly on the beer taps in front of him, Hal replies, “It appears that my parents had old-fashioned taste.”

“So it does,” she continues. Hal can feel her eyes boring into him, but still he doesn’t look up. 

“What can I get you?” he asks, just as she blurts out, “I’m Karen.”

Hal’s eyes finally come up to take in a woman he estimates to be in her mid-forties, with shoulder-length dark hair, large, green eyes, high cheekbones and a small, pointed nose, features that would have made her rather pretty at one point, but that are now covered in too much make-up to try and hide the all to obvious lines that have started to show up on her face. 

“What can I get you, Karen?” he asks again. Karen smiles at him, and Hal feels an unexpected flicker of hunger deep inside. 

“What have you got on offer, Hal?” she asks, never taking her eyes off him, and there is a part of him that frowns inwardly at the woman’s obvious overconfidence, even as another part, the one so intimately linked to the slowly growing flame inside his gut, can’t help but be a little bit intrigued. 

“Why don’t you have a look at our menu, ma’am,” he says steadily, holding out said menu to her, and she takes it from him, not missing the opportunity to lightly brush the very tips of her fingers against his in the process. Hal lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“Your skin is so cold,” Karen says with a small furrow in her brow. “Are you all right, Hal?”

“I’m fine, thank you, ma’am,” he replies, taking a step back from the bar to bring a small amount of distance between himself and the woman, who sighs and opens the menu, leafing through it with a somewhat disinterested air about her.

“I’m not sure,” she says after a moment, closing the menu with a frustrated sigh and placing it down on the bar in front of her, eyes coming back up to Hal again. “I’m only here because I’m waiting for my husband. No good son of a whore is on the phone to his manager – his manager! Can you believe it? On our Christmas break! – and then we’re going out for dinner anyway. Not to slight the food you are serving here,” she adds quickly, with a flirty, crooked smile that makes Hal distinctly uncomfortable, “but if you’re staying here for a full week, a little variety goes a long way, if you know what I mean.” The look she gives Hal is heavy with meaning, and he quickly averts his eyes. 

“I understand completely, ma’am,” he says matter-of-factly. “Our menu does not offer a vast amount of variety.” He takes a deep breath, feeling her eyes on him once more. “As a matter of fact, there is a very good restaurant in one of the other hotels only a few roads down from here. The chef has a Michelin star. You might find more of what you are looking for there.”

“I…” she trails off, clearing her throat. “Thank you, Hal. I will keep that in mind.”

“You’re welcome,” says Hal. “Now, what would you like?” he nods towards the forgotten menu lying on the bar between them, and she sighs.

“Just get me a—”

“Karen, there you are!” a booming voice drifts over from the door, and Hal looks up to see the man he recognises as Karen’s husband walking towards them with hurried steps. Karen turns around on the bar stool to face him, but Hal doesn’t miss the way her face falls as she does. 

“Yes, here I am,” she says. “Have you finished your oh so important business call so that we can finally go for dinner? Apparently there is an award winning chef working at the—” she breaks off, turns towards Hal and gives him a questioning look.

“Park Hotel,” he supplies, and she nods, turning back towards her husband.

“The Park Hotel,” she repeats. “Hal here reckons it might be worth a shot.”

Her husband sighs and averts his eyes. “That sounds lovely, Kay, really, it does,” he starts, then sighs again and gives her a sideways look. “I was really looking forward to our dinner tonight. It’s just… well…”

Hal can hear Karen’s heart rate and breathing speed up as she waits for him to continue, and it once again makes a wholly unwelcome surge of hunger run through him. “Well what, Pete?” she asks after a long, awkward moment.

The husband – Pete – gives a fleeting glance towards Hal and says, “Let’s talk about this somewhere more… private, perhaps?”

“I…” she starts to argue, but then changes her mind and says, “Yes, all right.” With a heavy sigh, she gets up and throws Hal one more quick look and a smile. “Nice chatting to you, Hal,” she says, before she turns around and follows her husband through the door.

Hal frowns after her for a long moment, and all the while, there is that persistent, slow burning flame deep inside that laps at the edges of his consciousness, growing bolder with every passing second. 

And somewhere behind a thick, almost impenetrable wall, he can hear a voice, so quiet it is almost impossible to fully make out, asking, _Why not?_

***

Dominic scrolls through the ten-page report Adrian sent him earlier today about the latest Type 1 attacks, the laptop balanced precariously on his lap as he sits cross-legged on the floor. He has got somewhat used to the fact that he doesn’t have any furniture in the cellar, even though he has been out and about in the rest of the house repeatedly over the last three days, as long as it was only him and Alex in the house, and he has so far proven himself trustworthy.

His thoughts are interrupted as the front door opens and shuts, and the by now familiar, even if no less unpleasant, smell of werewolf wafts in from the direction of the hallway. 

“Hey, Tom,” he can hear Alex calling from the living room.

Then Tom’s voice rings out from the hallway, right outside the cellar door. “Hiya, Alex.” There is a short pause before he continues, “Is Dominic… in the cellar?”

Dominic’s brow furrows, just as Alex answers, “Yeah, of course he is. Where else would he be?”

He can faintly hear Tom sigh. “Alex, I know ya been lettin’ ‘im out.”

Alex’s voice is a lot closer when he next hears it, and Dominic assumes she must have rent-a-ghosted into the hallway. “How could you tell?”

“I can smell ‘im,” Tom says with a shudder in his voice. 

“How do you know it’s not Hal?” Alex answers immediately, and he can almost _hear_ Tom shaking his head.

“Nah, ’s not Hal. I know Hal. He smells different.”

Alex lets out a deep, theatrical sigh. “All right, yes. You caught me. I’ve been letting him out. Which, by the way, sounds way too much like we’re talking about an animal—”

“Who says we ain’t?” Tom says sourly, and Dominic narrows his eyes at the door. Who is he to call _him_ an animal?

_He’s right, though, isn’t he?_ an unhelpful voice pipes up at the back of his mind, and he quickly shakes his head, shutting it up.

“Tom!” Alex scolds.

“Wha’?” Tom replies innocently, then continues, “But anyway, I need to talk to ‘im, so, is he in the cellar?”

“Yes, I already said,” Alex answers, then asks, “What do you need to speak to him about? And anyway, shouldn’t you be out by now? The moon’s almost up.”

But Tom doesn’t reply, and Dominic can hear the door at the top of the stairs open, followed by heavy, quick footsteps on the stairs that carry the werewolf smell closer to him, making him hold his breath as he watches the door with wide eyes. Eventually, he can hear the locking mechanisms being undone, and then the door opens, and he almost gags.

Tom stands in the doorway for a long, silent moment, just looking at him with an expression of pity mixed with a generous amount of disgust that he is not able to hide. Dominic stares back at him, the werewolf he used to know, who seems like a completely different, completely foreign entity now. One that the very essence of his being tells him to be wary of, to be repulsed by, just like he is by him.

“Tom,” he says eventually, working hard to keep his voice steady as he keeps his eyes fixed on the figure in the doorway.

“Hey,” Tom replies, then steps inside and closes the door behind him. Dominic realises that he is still sitting on the floor, and that his position gives Tom quite a significant height advantage, so he carefully puts his laptop down on the floor next to him and stands up, never taking his eyes off Tom in the process. “Ya don’t need to be scared of me, ya know,” Tom says, frowning at him.

Dominic sighs. “I know. I’m… sorry, Tom. You… you’re…” 

“I’m a werewolf, yeah, I know. I must smell funny to ya. You’re gonna get used to it, ’s what Hal says. He lived with a werewolf for fifty-five years ‘fore he met me, see, so he got used to it, like.”

Despite everything, Dominic can’t help but give Tom a tiny smile. “Thanks, Tom. I appreciate your understanding of my… situation.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, and then, “I don’t agree with it. With what he done.”

Dominic feels a fast-growing lump rising in his throat, and he swallows. “I… don’t agree with it either,” he says quietly, averting his eyes as he feels them prickling.

“But if ya ask me, I also don’t agree with the way ya been blankin’ ‘im,” Tom continues, and Dominic’s eyes dart over towards the werewolf, giving him a sharp look.

“Excuse me?” he asks, nostrils flaring.

“Well,” Tom says, intense eyes looking back at him, “ya know the way ya been tellin’ ‘im to get lost, and the kinda things ya been sayin’ to Alex, that ya wanna see ‘im dead an’ that. I don’t think that’s right neither.”

“I didn’t realise she told you about that,” Dominic replies, shaking his head. “But to be honest, Tom, it’s none of your business what I said, or what I think about Hal. That’s between myself and Hal. I…” he trails off, sighs, then begins again, “With all due respect, Tom, I don’t think you could ever possibly understand what it’s like.”

Tom glares at him. “Why, ‘cause I ain't dead?”

“Yes,” Dominic starts, nodding, but never gets to continue as Tom starts talking again.

“And ya think bein’ a werewolf is easy, is that it? ‘Cause it only affects me one night a month, like? Well let me tell ya, it’s not. The wolf… it’s always with me, ya know. It’s always there, always been there, since I was a baby.”

“I… I know that, Tom—” Dominic starts, but he is once again interrupted by Tom.

“Ya don’t know! That’s the thing. Just like I don’t know what it’s like bein’ a vampire, you don’t know what it’s like bein’ a wolf, an’ ya never will. But that ain’t the point,” he says, breathing heavily by the end.

Dominic frowns. “Then what is the point?”

“That Hal’s me best mate,” Tom says. “And it ain’t right, the way ya been treatin’ ‘im.”

Dominic scoffs. “He destroyed my life! Made me into a monster!”

“Yeah, well, ya know what?” Tom asks, giving him a piercing look. “So did me dad! Didn’t mean I loved ‘im any less.”

Dominic feels like all the air has been knocked out of his lungs. “What?” he croaks past the tightness in his throat.

“Me dad?” Tom asks, frowning at him. “I thought ya knew all about ‘im, like? Anthony McNair?”

And then the penny drops. “Of course,” Dominic breathes, eyes widening as he takes in Tom, who is looking back at him with a steady gaze. “He infected you as a baby.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, nodding. “And I ain’t sayin’ I weren’t pissed off, like, when I found out he lied to me. I was.” He pauses, swallows, then looks straight at Dominic and adds, “But I was able to forgive ‘im, ‘cause he was me dad, an’ I loved ‘im.”

Dominic stares at the young werewolf for a long time, mulling over what he just told him, then slowly shakes his head and says, “That’s different.”

“How’s it different?” Tom shoots back.

Dominic sighs. “Your dad… he didn’t know what he was doing at the time. He didn’t mean to hurt you. It just happened. It was… an unfortunate accident. Hal, on the other hand,” he takes a deep breath, “he knew exactly what he was doing. And he did it anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he loved ya!” Tom exclaims. “ _Loves_ ya. He still does. An’ I know it ain’t what ya wanted, like, but ya gotta live with it now anyway, so ya might as well do it with—” He cuts off suddenly, his face contorting in an ugly grimace as he lets out a loud groan. 

“Tom?” Dominic asks, shooting forward to steady the werewolf as he stumbles towards him.

“Damn, got caught out. Shouldn’ta argued with ya for that long,” Tom says, a smile on his face that looks more like a pained grimace.

“Are you…?” Dominic starts, and Tom nods.

“I’m transformin’, yeah,” he confirms. “Was gonna ask ya if I could borrow the cellar, for, like, one night.”

Dominic’s heart does a frantic extra beat. “Where do you expect me to go?” he asks, as Tom is overcome by a powerful convulsion that has him almost doubling over and screaming out with pain. 

“Not in ‘ere,” he chokes out, “I’ll tear ya to shreds.”

_Doesn’t sound like the worst option,_ Dominic thinks briefly, before dispelling the thought and asking, “Then where?”

Tom’s breaths are coming in quick, shallow gasps, and Dominic feels a shiver run down his spine when the werewolf looks at him with wild, animalistic eyes. “Dunno,” Tom says, baring sharp canines as he speaks. “Upstairs? I know ya been up there with Alex anyway, ‘m sure ya gonna be fine.”

“Not for a whole night,” Dominic whispers, but looking back at the fast transforming werewolf, he knows that he doesn’t have a choice. He has to get out of here, and fast. Springing into action, he crosses the room to the door at a speed that once again takes him by surprise, and throws the door open. 

He can hear Tom falling to the floor behind him with a loud “Oomph,” followed by the sickening sound of bones cracking and breaking inside the werewolf’s body. Turning around in the open doorway, he throws one last glance at Tom, his clothes ripping and tearing as they fail to accommodate the wolf’s large, muscular body, and dark fur sprouting through his skin. Tom’s head comes up, and predatory yellow eyes stare right into his. Then the wolf’s head nods frantically towards the door as if in a last, desperate warning for him to get out, and Dominic finds himself nodding back at the beast before he quickly steps over the threshold and pulls the door shut behind him, just in time before a heavy body throws itself against it with a loud _thud_.

Dominic finds that he is breathing heavily, despite not feeling any real, physical exertion, and he puts it down to a conditioned response to danger his body remembers from being alive. Another snippet of information to go into his ever growing personal experience file.

The door at the top of the stairway opens just as there is a long, bone-chilling howl coming from inside the cellar room.

“Dominic?” Alex asks tentatively, and he turns around to see her standing at the top of the stairs, looking at him with a worried frown on her face.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving her a small smile and trying to block out the noise of the wolf on the other side of the door, throwing itself against it repeatedly in a bid to escape its confinement.

“You sure?” Alex asks, taking a few steps down the stairs to give him a closer look.

“Yes,” he replies, nodding. Then he swallows and adds, “Looks like I’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight though.”

“Looks like it, yeah,” Alex agrees, throwing a thoughtful glance towards the door. “I really don’t know why he did that. He just suddenly turned up and said he needed to talk to you. I did think that he was cutting it awfully fine.”

Dominic huffs. “I think that was his plan all along, Alex. He came down here to ask me to borrow the cellar. Can’t blame him, really,” he adds after a moment. “It’s a cold night out there. He probably didn’t fancy waking up naked in the woods somewhere.”

“I guess,” Alex says, then throws him another thoughtful look. “So, what are you going to do?”

He sighs deeply, eyes wandering up to the door at the top of the stairs. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging. “I guess I’ll sleep. Somewhere. And hope that there won’t be any humans walking past the house.” 

“I can lock the front door, if that would help?” Alex offers, and he nods and gives her a small, sad smile.

“Thanks, Alex. That would certainly make me feel better.”

She returns his smile, then turns and climbs back up the stairs, and he slowly sets himself in motion, following along behind her. Then another, urgent thought pops into his head.

“Is Hal…?”

“He’s at work,” Alex answers without turning around. “Late shift I think, he won’t be back for a while. And I can tell him what’s going on, so he won’t bother you when he gets back. Although—“

“Please, Alex, not you as well,” Dominic pleads, eyes growing wide as he regards the ghost in front of him. 

Alex sighs. “All right. Never mind.”

They stand in silence for a long moment, and Dominic’s eyes drift along the hallway, first in one direction, then the other, and finally they come to lie on the stairs that lead up to the first floor. Without his conscious input, his legs carry him to the bottom of the stairs. 

He faintly hears Alex’s voice behind him, “Have you decided where you’re going to sleep, then?”, as he carefully sets one foot in front of the other and climbs the stairs, one step at a time, as if following an invisible pull that guides him towards a plain wooden door with a number ‘4’ on it. He takes a deep breath, then depresses the door handle and opens the door.

The room still looks exactly like he remembers it, and it dawns on him that ‘the way he remembers it’ was only about a week ago. It feels like so much longer. One thing that is different, he realises a moment later, is that every single molecule of air in the room smells of Hal now. Of Hal, and of the other thing, the thing that he smelled _on_ Hal, each time he has been near him since… that night. The thing that he wants, that he craves like nothing else, and it makes the burning ache in his stomach flare up painfully. 

“Are you sure about this?” Alex says behind him, uncertainty in her voice.

He nods jerkily, almost on autopilot as his feet carry him further into the room, around the large bed, towards Hal’s bedside table. “Yes, I’m sure,” he says quietly, distractedly, a hand reaching out and opening the top drawer, and at once his eyes zoom in on the familiar looking flask that lies inside, inviting him, tempting him to taste. 

He can’t actually _smell_ the blood, as such, but the memory of it, and the remainder of it in the air from when Hal must have had some earlier today, are enough to make his gums itch, to make him tremble with anticipation as he lifts the flask up, giving the red liquid inside an intense look. He can feel his fangs breaking through as he watches it, turning the small bottle this way and that, before he brings up his other hand and starts to unscrew the top—

“Dominic!” Alex calls behind him, pulling him out of his trance, and he turns around to give her a questioning look.

“Yes?”

“Do you really want to do that?” she asks, indicating the flask in his hand, and it is only now that he fully realises what he was about to do. He quickly drops the flask back into the drawer and shuts it, eyes widening as he lifts them back up towards Alex.

“No,” he rasps past the sudden, painful dryness in his throat. “No, Alex, I really don’t.”

“Thought not,” Alex says, nodding. 

“I… thank you, Alex,” he says sincerely, making sure his fangs have retracted before he gives her a small, shaky smile.

Alex shrugs. “I just didn’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

“Thank you,” he says again, then throws a fleeting look towards the bedside table and adds, “Would you mind taking that away?”

“Sure,” she says, coming around the bed to stand next to him. “Close your eyes and hold your breath,” she continues, and he does as he is told, only to hear the drawer opening and closing, followed immediately by a whoosh of air that tells him that Alex has left the room. He opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, regretting it straight away as he breathes in Hal, Hal, _Hal_ , and another, completely different ache spreads around his chest.

_Why can’t I just let you go?_ he thinks desperately, eyes wandering around the room they shared, the bed they shared, and before he knows it, he has stripped down to his boxers and climbed in between the sheets, and the scent of Hal is _everywhere_ around him now, and he breathes in deeply, allows the remnant of Hal’s presence to surround him like a cocoon, and within a few short minutes, he drifts off to sleep.

***

Hal is in the middle of drawing a pint of lager for one of the guests when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, indicating the arrival of a new text message. He frowns, wondering who would be sending him a text. Tom should be well into his transformation by now. Alex would probably just pop up right next to him if she wanted to speak. And Dominic… well, they haven’t exactly been on speaking terms recently.

He hands the full glass over to the elderly man on the other side of the bar, before he turns away and, as inconspicuously as possible, pulls the phone out of his pocket. His breath catches in his throat when his eyes fall on the message sitting on his lock screen. He immediately recognises the number as the same unknown mobile number that called him the other day. A feeling of trepidation takes hold of him as he unlocks the phone, opens the message and reads,

_**Hal, hey, it’s Jamie. I know you said the other day not to contact you again, but I just can’t stop thinking about you, and about the amazing night we had together. I don’t know what happened to make you have second thoughts, but I wanted to let you know that I stand by what I said. About seeing you again, and about the other thing as well. Please let me know if you change your mind again. I’ll be here. J**_

Hal shakes his head weakly, staring at the screen, trying to make sense of the message in front of his eyes. And once again, his mind returns to a dream he had, a few nights ago, that made him wake up feeling turned on and sweaty and… desperately hungover. 

_It can’t be,_ his mind insists, but even as he thinks it, there is another part of him that doubts, that searches in the deepest recesses of his mind for any piece of evidence, any fragment of an actual, real memory. But he comes up blank, and he takes a deep breath, shaking off his anxiety as he buries the phone back in his pocket without sending a reply.

“Fending off secret admirers?” a female voice speaks up behind him, and Hal whirls around to come face to face with Karen, who is taking a seat on the same bar stool she used earlier, giving him a curious look.

“No,” he says, almost automatically, then plasters on a mask of professionalism and asks, “Change of plans?”

Karen sighs deeply. “Yes. Turns out Pete’s even more spineless than I thought. Manager’s been asking him to come back to the office, ‘urgently’, and he just up and leaves! In the middle of our holiday, just takes me to one side and says, ‘Sorry, love, got to take the first train out of here and go back home to sort out some emergency at the office’. The nerve of him!” She snorts loudly, and Hal gives her what he hopes is a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

“It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” she says dejectedly.

Hal can’t help but feel a surge of genuine sympathy for the woman, and he asks, “How long have you been married?”

“Too long,” she says immediately, then gives him a sheepish smile and adds, “Twenty years. Not that it’s really felt much like a marriage for the last five or so.” Then her expression changes again, and she gives Hal a somewhat heated look. “It does mean I’m free tonight, though.”

“Well,” Hal replies, picking up an empty glass that someone left on the bar in front of him, “as you can see, I’m rather busy. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to occupy your time.” He turns away to put the glass down in the sink, hoping against hope that Karen gets tired of him and gives up, but it seems she is not so easily discouraged.

“Hal,” she says. Her tone is sultry and impatient, and there is something in it that stirs something in Hal, something that he decidedly doesn’t want nor need to be stirred. He turns around to her before he can stop himself.

“Yes?”

The look she gives him is dark with lust, but Hal doesn’t hold her gaze for long. Instead his eyes are drawn to her left hand, to the finger that runs absentmindedly down the side of her neck, and he wonders whether she realises that she is almost perfectly following the path of the common carotid artery to where it meets the aortic arch. Probably not, he decides, but what does it even matter when the simmering flame in his gut flares up and burns hotter and hotter inside of him, and he feels his grip on reality slipping, for just a fleeting moment, almost too insignificant to notice, before he tears his eyes away from her hand and meets her eyes with a steely gaze of his own.

“Karen,” he says, his voice deep and sensual, and a small, crooked smile playing at the edges of his lips. “What can I do for you?”


	6. Cold Moon, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, dear readers!
> 
> Here is Part II of my two-part chapter, and I'm continuing with the 'tradition' that something quite significant happens in Chapter 6. That's all I'm going to say about it, except maybe that I had a really great time writing this chapter, even though it wasn't an easy one to get right. I hope I have managed to do it justice.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

I'm inside  
Like a wrecking ball through your eyes  
And I change it all from inside

\- Interpol, “Wrecking Ball”

 

Hal wakes to the feeling of warm sunlight caressing his face, and he turns around in bed with a contented sigh, burying his face deeper in the pillow, when suddenly, his nostrils pick up a very familiar scent, and every muscle in his body tenses while his stomach somersaults. Fighting the heaviness in his eyelids, he pries his eyes open and blinks a few times against the bright sunlight. The first thing he sees is a crisp white pillow, the sort they use in the hotel, and he frowns as a strong sense of disorientation sets in.

_Did I sleep in the hotel last night?_

He lifts his head off the pillow to get a better look at his surroundings, and his suspicion is confirmed as his eyes wander around the room, furnished only with a king-sized bed, two chairs and table, as well as the built-in wardrobe along one wall. Room 15, if he isn’t completely mistaken.

_What am I doing here?_

He can still feel that scent upon the air, making tendrils of hunger flicker at the bottom of his stomach, and it makes him realise that up until that point, the constant, burning ache he has been so used to always being there was all but gone.

A slow sense of dread settles into his mind as he continues to take in the room around him, and finally, as if fighting against an invisible force that tries to keep him away, he tears his gaze down to the bed next to him, and his breath sticks in his throat.

“No…” he whispers, eyes wide and horrified as they fall on the body of a middle-aged woman, her neck ripped open to reveal a mess of muscle fibres, tendons and torn up blood vessels. Her eyes are wide open and unseeing, and her body is naked and covered in blood. Hal swallows painfully as his eyes roam over the dead woman’s body, and he notices another large, gaping wound on the inside of her right thigh. There is more blood staining the sheets underneath her, and finally, Hal looks down at himself to find the same red colour covering almost every inch of his own naked skin. “Oh god, Karen, what have I done?” he croaks, backing away from her on the bed, even as he can’t tear his eyes away from the brutal scene before him, and an urgent, persistent thought repeats itself inside his head.

_This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. I have no recollection of any of this._

He slowly gets up off the bed, his head spinning as he tries to make sense of what he sees in front of him. How is this possible? How can he be here? He tries desperately to think back to the last thing he remembers from before he woke up.

He was working at the bar, he was serving some customers… and Karen was there. She _was_ there, she was flirting with him, but he made it clear to her that he wasn’t interested. He did… didn’t he?

He shakes his head, deciding that there is no point in contemplating this now. With a heavy sigh, he picks his clothes up from where they have been strewn across the floor, and he feels a sharp pang as he separates his own clothes out from Karen’s. Then he walks over to the door, makes sure it is locked from the inside before he makes his way into the ensuite and steps into the shower. He doesn’t even wait for the water to heat up, but moves straight under the powerful spray in a desperate bid to get the blood washed off his body. He shudders at the cold water, but continues to scrub himself all the same, and slowly, the water temperature rises, and the warmth all around him helps to relax his tense muscles.

When he is sure that there is no trace of blood left on his skin, he finally turns the water off, dries himself and gets dressed. Something about wearing the black suit soothes him, makes him feel in control, and he confidently steps back out into the room, only for his eyes to fall straight back on the bloodied corpse on the bed.

And now that he can think a bit clearer, there is another urgent thought that takes over his mind.

_What is he going to do with the body?_

There is no way he can just leave her here. He will have to make her disappear, somehow. He will have to make sure that no one ever finds her, and that the death and disappearance can’t be traced back to him.

Even at this early hour, he can’t take the chance of just moving the body through the hotel. It would look far too suspicious. And this time, he thinks bitterly, there is no Dominic, there are no Men in Grey that can come in and clean up the mess for him. He is on his own with this.

Hal closes his eyes, thinks long and hard about every possible option of what to do to make the body disappear, but in the end, they all come back to the same solution. And he might not like it, and it might mean that he loses his friend forever, but it is… the only option.

Sighing deeply, Hal picks up his phone from the small table by the door, and he looks through his contacts until he finds the number he is looking for. It rings only once before the call is picked up.

“Hal?” Alex asks, sounding suspicious and worried at the same time.

 _If only you knew how right you are,_ he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut once more.

“Alex,” he croaks. “I need your help with something.”

“Hal, where are you?” she asks frantically. “Weren’t you supposed to be back here before midnight?”

“Yes,” he replies, then takes a deep breath and repeats, “I need your help, Alex.”

“Yeah, I got that bit,” Alex says, sounding more and more worried with every word. “What’s going on, Hal?” And then, almost like an afterthought, “What have you done?”

“It wasn’t me,” Hal blurts out, then winces, even as he hears Alex gasp on the other end.

“What happened, Hal? Have you…” She trails off, pauses for a long moment before adding, “Has he…?”

“Yes,” Hal whispers, almost to quiet for her to hear.

“What has he done, Hal?” Alex asks, alarm in her voice. “Has he killed someone?”

“Yes,” he whispers again.

His answer is met by a long, heavy silence, and he is about to say something else when Alex speaks up again, her voice very quiet and deadly calm. “Where are you?”

“At the hotel,” Hal says, trying to make his strangled voice slightly more audible. “Room 15.”

“All right,” Alex says, and barely ten seconds later, there is a knock on the door that makes Hal almost jump out of his skin. He puts the phone back down on the table and undoes the lock on the door, slowly opening it only the tiniest fraction to find Alex standing on the other side, giving him a look so filled with anguish and disappointment that it makes his chest constrict.

“Thank you,” he says, as he opens the door wider and allows her to come inside. She enters the room behind him, and he can hear a loud gasp when her eyes fall on the body on the bed.

“Oh my god, Hal,” she whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“I’m sorry,” Hal says feebly, looking at his feet, but he can feel her accusing gaze on him all the same. “I… don’t remember any of it, Alex, I swear. All I know is that I woke up here this morning, and she was lying there, dead.”

“Did you know her?” Alex asks flatly.

Hal nods. “She was one of the guests. She… seemed to have a bit of a crush on me. Kept flirting with me.” He huffs. “I should’ve told her to run and hide.”

Alex is silent again for a long time, and he cautiously looks up at her, finding her eyes fixed on the naked, mutilated body. “And you really don’t remember anything?” she asks eventually.

He shakes his head with conviction. “No, Alex, I don’t. I… I didn’t do this.”

Her eyes come up to meet his then, hard and accusing. “Whichever one of you did this, Hal, it was still _you_.”

He slowly shakes his head, his eyes widening at her accusation. “No,” he says. “I would never have… you know me, Alex, you know I wouldn’t—”

“I don’t know anything anymore, Hal!” Alex bellows, throwing one arm out to indicate the dead body on the bed.

He gives her a pleading look and says, “Keep your voice down,” before he catches up with the fact that no one but him can even hear her. Letting out a long, ragged sigh and looking straight into her eyes, he says, “I wouldn’t do this, Alex. Please, you have to trust me.”

She gives him another long, hard look and asks, “Do you remember switching?”

“No,” he admits, then quickly adds, “But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen! Please, Alex, you have to believe me!”

She sighs deeply. “To be honest, Hal, I don’t know what to believe anymore. But you asked me here for a reason, so why don’t you tell me what you need me to do, and we go from there.”

“Thank you,” he says, giving her the tiniest of smiles that she doesn’t return. He nods briefly, eyes wandering back towards the bed, and says, “I need you to get rid of the body for me.”

“You what?” Alex asks. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“What did you think I was going to ask, Alex?” Hal shoots back, his nerves finally getting the better of him. “For a cup of tea and a hug?”

“No, of course not,” she scoffs, then visibly deflates and adds, “I guess you have a point.” Then she gives him a very funny look. “I can’t even believe I’m asking this,” she says, “but, what do you want me to do with the body?”

Hal lets out a slightly hysterical chuckle, and Alex throws him a bewildered look. “Sorry,” he says. “I guess… I don’t know, dump it in a river somewhere? Unless you want to bury it. I can give you some good spots for that. But you’d need equipment, a shovel, and we haven’t really got time for that right now.” Then he realises that he has been rambling, and he gives Alex a sheepish look. “I think a river will do.”

“I don’t think there’ll ever come a day when you don’t go and surprise me in completely new and unexpected ways, Hal fucking Yorke,” Alex says, shaking her head at him. “And I don’t mean that in a good way.”

Hal gives her a grim smile and says, “I very much hope that never changes, Alex. I would rather die than have you know about all the terrible things I have done in my past.”

“More terrible than this?” Alex asks, nodding towards the mutilated body.

Hal swallows thickly and nods, averting his eyes.

“Fair enough,” says Alex, and silence falls once more.

After a long, painful moment of both of them just standing there, lost in their own thoughts, she wordlessly walks over towards the bed and starts to untuck the blood-soaked sheet and wrap it around the naked body.

“Let me do that,” Hal says weakly, coming over to stand next to her and holding out his hands. She gives him an unreadable look, but eventually steps back from the bed to allow him to take over. His eyes dart over to the floor for a moment and he stops in his task to pick up Karen’s clothes, placing them on top of the body before he picks up the sheet again.

“Did you sleep with her?” Alex asks from behind him, and Hal closes his eyes and swallows thickly.

“I don’t remember,” he says truthfully, and he can hear Alex sigh. “But probably, yes,” he adds after a short pause.

“Uh huh,” Alex just says, and it almost feels worse than if she was shouting at him.

 _Listen, I know I fucked up,_ he wants to tell her, _I know I made a mistake. But I’m confessing to you, I’m asking you for help. That must count for something._

But the words don’t come, because deep down, he is not ready to speak them. Because despite what Alex has said, it wasn’t really _him_ making the mistake, was it? It shouldn’t be _him_ taking responsibility for this.

He finishes tucking in the edges of the sheet, having wrapped it fully around the body, and steps back from the bed. “There you go, all ready for you,” he says quietly, avoiding Alex’s eyes as she awkwardly reaches out to take hold of the body.

“All right, let’s do this,” she bites out.

He can see she is about to rent-a-ghost away when he quickly says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t, Hal,” she replies, not turning around to face him, and the next moment, she is gone, and he is left staring at an empty mattress on a king-sized bed. After standing motionlessly for a couple of minutes, he gives himself a shake and leaves the room, making a beeline for the linen cupboard and retrieving a new sheet. He painstakingly makes the bed and gives the room a thorough post-checkout clean up, then walks downstairs and throws a tired smile at the girl covering reception this morning. He thinks for a moment, going through all the names of the new staff he met the other day, and finally arrives at what he hopes is the right one.

“Good morning, Louise,” he says, and her eyes widen when she looks at him.

“Good morning, sir. Hal, I mean. I didn’t expect you to… did you sleep here?”

He sighs and says, “It got quite late last night, so I ended up staying in one of the empty rooms.” As a last minute afterthought, he adds, “I had a late night check-out to deal with.”

“Oh?” says Louise, giving him a curious look. “Who was that for?”

“The woman in Room 15,” Hal says.

“Mrs Richards?” Louise asks, and Hal feels a pang of guilt when he realises that he didn’t even know the woman’s full name.

“Yes,” he confirms, nodding. “She left unexpectedly late last night after her husband checked out earlier that evening. She looked like she’d got herself into quite a state. I tried to persuade her to stay, but… she was adamant.”

Louise frowns as she looks down at the guest register in front of her. “There’s nothing in here about a check-out.”

“As I said,” Hal says, “it was late. I must have forgotten to fill it in.”

Louise nods understandingly at him. “No worries, s— Hal. Do you remember what time it was when she left? I can fill it in for you now.”

Hal clears his throat, thinks for a moment, and says, “It must have been around… eleven thirty?”

“Wow, that is late,” Louise says, noting down the check-out time in the register. Then she looks up and gives Hal a bright smile. “There, all done for you, sir.”

“Hal,” he says, his own smile ever so slightly strained.

She blushes. “Sorry, of course. Hal.”

“Thanks, Louise,” he says, and then turns and walks towards the exit.

***

The cold morning air does wonders for the cotton wool feeling in Hal’s head, and by the time he turns the corner towards the B&B, he feels refreshed and energised, and he stops in his tracks, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the salty sea air. He takes a moment to relish the calm, quiet energy thrumming through his body, which he knows is at least partly down to the unexpected influx of fresh blood from last night.

He tries not to think about that fact.

Opening his eyes, he makes his way up the path to the front door, only to find it securely sealed shut. He turns his key in the lock once, twice, three times, but the door doesn’t budge. Frowning slightly, Hal walks around the back of the house and tries the patio door. He breathes a sigh of relief when the door swings open, and he enters.

He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, looking out for Alex, but the ghost is nowhere to be found, and in her absence the house is deadly silent this early in the morning. Hal steps into the hallway, and like every day, his eyes are immediately drawn to the cellar door, a feeling of longing deep inside his chest like a fist squeezing around his heart. He wonders if he is awake yet. Probably not, but then again, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t seem to know much about him anymore, nowadays.

He is just about to turn away and make his way up the stairs to get a change of clothes when his nose picks something up. A familiar scent, faint, but definitely there, and he frowns. Perhaps Tom has already come back from the woods and walked through here to the kitchen, before going to his room.

Shaking his head, Hal makes his way up the stairs and towards his own bedroom, his thoughts wandering to Alex and wondering how she is getting on. He opens the door and takes a step into the room… and freezes where he stands, his breath catching in his throat when his eyes fall on the figure sleeping on the bed.

He is lying on his side, topless, showing off his milky pale skin as the covers only come up to his waist. His hair is ruffled and longer than Hal has ever seen it, and his face is covered in heavy stubble. The way he is lying, he perfectly shows off the two shiny pink scars on the side of his neck, preserved like this forever and so much more visible now, and Hal feels a fierce surge of love and protectiveness towards him, this beautiful creature sleeping in his bed, eyes closed, features relaxed, chest rising and falling slowly with shallow breaths that his body seems to insist on taking, unwilling as yet to accept the fact that they are completely redundant.

Above all, Hal thinks, he looks utterly peaceful.

He takes a few steps towards the bed and sits down on the mattress, careful not to disturb the sleeping figure, and he reaches out a hesitant hand to lightly stroke over the side of his cheek. Dominic stirs instantly, letting out a quiet, sleepy hum and tilting his head to lean into Hal’s touch, and he flattens his fingers to cup Dominic’s cheek in his hand, thumb caressing the very corner of his mouth.

“I love you,” he breathes, barely a sound at all, but his stomach flutters wildly when he sees Dominic’s lips curve up into the tiniest of smiles, and he wants nothing more than to lean in and press his own lips against that smile.

He leans forward as if in slow motion, until he is close enough to feel Dominic’s cool breath on his face. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, gets ready to finally close the distance between them, but there is something that makes him hesitate, something that tells him that this is not the right thing to do, and at the last moment, he moves up a few inches and presses a feather-light kiss to Dominic’s forehead instead.

He pulls back, opens his eyes, and is met by a pair of bright blue ones, looking straight back at him. Neither of them says anything for the longest moment, but neither of them looks away, either, and Hal finds himself almost drowning in those iridescent blue depths.

It takes Hal a long time to realise that his right hand is still cupping the side of Dominic’s face, and when he does, he is unsure of what to do with it. He swallows, then slowly lifts his fingers away from Dominic’s skin, and his eyes widen when Dominic’s own hand comes up and covers his own, keeping it there.

Then Dominic moves his other arm to push himself up on his elbow, and the hand that was covering his own reaches up and around the back of Hal’s head, pulling him towards him. Still he doesn’t speak, just exerts a steady pressure on the back of Hal’s neck, until Hal is once again close enough to feel Dominic’s breath against his mouth. This time, he doesn’t hesitate, and he leans in the rest of the way, pressing his lips against Dominic’s in a gentle kiss.

For the tiniest moment, he mourns the warmth that Dominic used to radiate against him when they kissed, the enticing scent that surrounded him whenever they were close like this, but then Dominic moves his lips ever so slightly against his own, and they are still just as soft as they ever were, and he decides that it doesn’t matter, that this is still him and he loves him and the kiss still feels absolutely wonderful.

There is a low hum coming from somewhere, and his sluggish brain takes a moment to realise that it is him, humming against Dominic’s mouth as they kiss, slowly and gently with no urgency at all, just sharing a moment of complete and utter perfection, until he feels Dominic tense up ever so slightly under his touch, and he pulls away, hazel eyes boring into blue ones until Dominic finally breaks away and looks down, heaving a deep breath, his hand falling away form Hal’s neck and into his own lap.

“Hal,” he says, eyes fixed on the bed sheets between them.

“Yes?” Hal whispers back, a crease in his brow as he watches Dominic sit up fully, backing away from him.

“I… I don’t know why… I…” he drifts off, sighs deeply. After a long silence, his eyes come back up to Hal’s, and he is shocked by the naked pain he can suddenly see in them. “I shouldn’t do this, Hal. I don’t deserve this. Any of this.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Hal says, the frown on his face deepening.

Dominic swallows. “I’m a monster. I shouldn’t… this… we shouldn’t…”

Hal lets out a forceful breath through his nose. “That’s exactly it, Dominic. ‘We’. You’re saying you’re a monster, and that you don’t deserve to be happy?”

“Yes,” Dominic says, nodding.

“Then what about me?” Hal asks, and Dominic gives him a sharp look.

“What about you?”

Hal scoffs. “Am I not a monster as well?” he asks. “What have you even done that is so monstrous? Don’t I deserve that name so much more than you do?” A glimpse of a naked, blood-stained body flashes across his mind’s eye, and his breath hitches almost imperceptibly.

Forcing the unwelcome thought out of his mind, he focuses back on Dominic as the other says, “It’s not about what I have done, Hal. It’s about what I have the potential to do. What…” he goes quiet for a moment, then clears his throat and continues, “what this… thing inside of me wants me to do. The hunger, Hal, it’s… I don’t know how to fight it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist it.”

“You are,” Hal says, looking deeply into Dominic’s eyes. “You will be. So much stronger than me, because you haven’t… you haven’t done all the horrible things that I’ve done.”

“Not yet,” Dominic mutters darkly, and Hal sighs.

“But that’s exactly it, don’t you see?” he continues. “Think about it, Dominic. How can you justify loving me for all that time, even after everything I’ve done, but now you deny yourself that very same thing?” He reaches out a hand to cover Dominic’s, lying on the bed between them, but Dominic pulls his hand away and glares at him.

“What you’ve done to me… it’s given me a different perspective,” he says quietly.

Hal shakes his head, his tone more bitter than he intended when he replies, “The transformation has clearly messed with your head, then.”

Dominic laughs harshly. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you. And who’s fault is it that I had to go through that _transformation_ in the first place?”

“Dominic, please, we’ve been through this,” says Hal, giving the blond man a pleading look. Then his voice goes very quiet when he adds, “Is it really so bad for two monsters to care about each other?”

Dominic just stares at him for a long, silent moment, then lets out a shaky breath. “The truth is,” he says, “that I don’t feel like I’ve even got a choice. I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried.”

“Then don’t,” Hal says, scooting slightly closer on the bed and lifting his hand up to cup Dominic’s cheek again. He can feel the other flinch away from him and starts to withdraw his hand, but then Dominic takes another deep, shaky breath and gives Hal a tiny nod. He reaches out again, and this time there is no resistance when his fingers make contact with Dominic’s stubbled cheek, and he can hear the other’s minute gasp as he lets his fingers caress the uncharacteristically rough surface of his skin. Then he moves around to the nape of Dominic’s neck and gently pulls him forward.

There is the tiniest bit of resistance to start with, and Dominic’s blue eyes pierce into his own when he says, “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

“I understand,” Hal says, because he does, and he knows forgiveness is not something he can ask for. Not yet.

His hand is insistent in pulling Dominic towards him, and upon hearing his reply, he can feel Dominic relax and give in to the pressure, and the next moment their lips meet again in another kiss, this one firmer, more urgent, and Dominic’s hands muss up his hair as he pulls Dominic’s bottom lip into his mouth, gently sucking on it, and there is the most delicious little sound, somewhere halfway between a sigh and a mewl, escaping Dominic’s mouth. Hal smiles into the kiss, his thumb drawing slow circles into Dominic’s cheek.

Dominic is the first to pull away this time, but there is no tension, no second thoughts, only deep and serious blue eyes gazing into his own and his chest rising and falling with fast, heavy breaths, a fact that makes Hal smile once again.

“How was that?” Hal asks.

“It was…” he trails off, swallows. “It was good.”

Hal frowns. “Just good?”

Dominic shakes his head and looks down. “No, I… it was…” His eyes come back to Hal, and there is a question in them. Hal holds his gaze for a long time, expecting him to ask whatever it is that is on his mind, but then Dominic gives another small shake of his head and says, “I think, if it’s all right with you…” he breaks off, furrows his brow, then starts again, “No, actually, even if it isn’t all right with you, I… I want to take it slowly. I… this is all… it’s all happening very fast and I—”

“Dominic,” Hal interrupts him, gently but firmly. “It’s okay. I understand. And yes, of course that’s all right with me. Just… tell me where your limits are, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says with the tiniest of smiles, then leans in again, tentatively, to press a light peck against Hal’s lips. “This is okay,” he says when he pulls away, and Hal nods. Then Dominic’s hand reaches out and takes hold of Hal’s, and Hal doesn’t miss the tremor in his fingers as they caress the skin on the back of his hand, his thumb trailing up his wrist until it is stopped by Hal’s shirt sleeve. “So is this,” he says after a moment, his face scrunched up in concentration about something, while his thumb lies firmly against the spot where Hal’s pulse point would have been.

“What are you thinking about?” Hal asks.

“Your skin feels warm,” Dominic says. “It’s… different, that’s all.”

Hal nods and is about to reply something when he hears Alex shouting his name from the downstairs hallway. Dominic’s head darts over to the door immediately, alarm in his eyes.

“Hal! Are you there?” Alex calls again.

A surge of panic courses through Hal at the thought of Dominic finding out about what happened last night, what Alex just did for him, and he quickly jumps up off the bed, earning a slightly confused look from Dominic.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. “She doesn’t sound too happy.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure everything is fine,” Hal replies quickly, and he doesn’t miss the minute narrowing of Dominic’s eyes at his words. “She’s probably just wondering what I’m doing up here for so long.” Then he frowns at Dominic and asks, “What happened to make you sleep up here, anyway? I thought… I mean, you’ve been quite adamant that you wanted to stay in the cellar, so—”

“Tom happened,” Dominic says, and Hal throws him a curious look.

“As in…?”

“As in he came into the cellar and basically started transforming right in front of me, so I didn’t have a choice but to get out,” Dominic says.

 _That still doesn’t explain why you slept in_ here _, when there is a perfectly suitable guest room available next door,_ Hal thinks, but doesn’t say it. He is grateful that he did. “I see,” he says instead, and then there is an impatient knock on the door.

“Hal, are you in there?” Alex asks.

Hal lets out a deep sigh and walks over to the door. “Yes, Alex, I’m here,” he calls, then opens the door just a fraction and gives her a meaningful look. “I’ll speak to you in a minute.”

“Yeah, well, you better—” Alex starts, but he cuts her off with an urgent look and a tiny shake of his head.

“In a minute, Alex,” he says again before he closes the door and turns back around to Dominic, who is looking slightly lost, sitting alone in the middle of the large bed, watching him intently. “I better go and find out what’s going on,” Hal says, trying his best to keep the trepidation out of his voice. Then he gives Dominic a gentle smile and adds, “I’ll see you later.”

“I suppose you will,” Dominic replies, an unreadable expression on his face, before Hal finally tears his eyes away, turns around and makes his way out into the hallway.

***

“That took you long enough,” Alex says as soon as the door falls shut behind Hal, and he throws her a warning look, gesturing towards the staircase. He knows full well that Dominic is able to hear every word they say at such close distance.

Alex, thankfully, seems to understand what he is trying to say and, with a sigh, follows him downstairs and into the kitchen.

Hal makes sure the door is firmly shut behind them before he turns around to Alex and asks, “Did everything go all right?”

Alex glares at him. “Yes, thank you, _everything_ went just fine.”

“Alex—” he starts pleadingly, but she just shakes her head and continues.

“I can’t believe I did that for you, Hal. I mean, what does that make me, your accomplice?”

“Alex,” he says again, “don’t do this, please.”

“Give me one good reason, Hal,” she counters, but when he doesn’t say anything more, her voice loses some of its bite as she says, “I dropped it… her… the _body_ into Loch Linnhe. I think it should—”

“Loch Linnhe?” Hal cuts in, a frown on his face.

“Yes, Hal, it’s in Scotland,” Alex replies, raising her eyebrows at him.

Hal sighs. “I know where it is, Alex. I was merely wondering… couldn’t you have found somewhere closer?”

Alex rolls her eyes at him. “In case you didn’t notice, Hal, I’m a ghost. Distance doesn’t matter to me. And this is a place I know, from when I was growing up, and I wanted somewhere fairly remote, okay, to try and avoid a random dog walker having a heart attack as they see a body in a blood-soaked sheet throwing itself into the water!”

“Alex!” Hal bites out under his breath, “Would you please keep your voice down!”

“Why, because you don’t want your best mate and your lover finding out that really you’re just as much of a bloodthirsty animal as they always thought you were?” Alex snarls under her breath.

Hal’s eyes widen. “Please, Alex, they can’t know. Please, promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Don’t tell us wha’?” Tom’s voice sounds from the doorway, and both Hal and Alex whirl around to the new arrival, equal expressions of shock on their faces as they take in Tom, looking utterly exhausted as he leans against the door frame and looks back and forth between them with a furrow in his brow.

Alex is the first to recover, and she clears her throat and says, “Hal was planning to redecorate the living room.”

Hal quickly nods next to her. “That’s right.”

Tom frowns. “Wha’? No! Ya mean ya were gonna do that without askin’ us?”

“I thought…” Hal starts, but doesn’t continue as Tom’s frown deepens.

“I don’t want ya to do that, Hal. It’s… it’s always been this way. Annie liked it this way. An’ I think we should keep it like this in her memory, like.”

Hal lets out a deep sigh, as inwardly a huge tension falls off of him. “All right, Tom,” he says, chancing a small smile at the werewolf. “Maybe I was getting a little bit ahead of myself. You’re right, I should have talked it through with you first.”

“Yeah,” Tom grumbles.

“If it means that much to you, I guess I won’t do it,” Hal continues.

“Cheers, mate,” Tom says, giving him a genuinely grateful smile, and it causes a pang of guilt in Hal’s chest for lying to his friend. Then Tom once again looks back and forth between the two of them, a slightly concerned expression on his face, and asks, “Where’s Dominic?”

“He’s upstairs,” Hal says, and Alex looks at him sharply. “He’s all right,” he continues. “We… talked, and he has agreed to… bury the hatchet, for now, I suppose.”

“Hey, that’s good news, mate,” Tom says, smiling at him.

“Thanks, Tom,” he replies, and still, Alex is giving him a piercing look that he doesn’t quite know how to place. Turning around to her, he asks, “Anything the matter, Alex?”

“No, nothing,” she says, too quickly. “I’m glad you guys have made up.”

“Thank you,” he says, giving her a look that clearly conveys he is thanking her for a lot more than her slightly frosty well wishes.

And if the look she returns to him is a little less than friendly, he chooses not to notice it, because this was a one-off mistake, a temporary, regrettable loss of control that he will not allow to ever happen again.

He will prove that to her.

He will.


	7. A Complication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!

December, why does it always rain  
Why does it never snow

Tempers, pulling you round again  
As the dim light descends

It only takes one word to bring you round  
But nothing can last forever

It's getting better all the time now  
I can feel it again

\- Feeder, “Feel It Again”

 

Nearly a week passes, and Hal can’t suppress the bitter thought that Dominic’s interpretation of ‘taking it slowly’ seems to decidedly stretch the definition, even with the patience of someone who has lived for five hundred years. Either that, or the moment they shared in the bedroom that morning was nothing but another too realistic dream created created by his warped mind entirely to confuse and unsettle him. 

Lying wide awake in bed for fear of closing his eyes and waking up to another real life nightmare, Hal’s thoughts wander back to that morning, like they have done so many times before in these last few days.

Dominic, after coming down the stairs, hair damp and smelling of soap, threw a tentative glance into the kitchen, where Hal was doing the dishes while Tom sat at the table, cradling a bowl of cereal and wishing away the post-transformation aches and pains. Alex had left the room as soon as their short conversation was over, and with everything that happened this morning, Hal really couldn’t blame her. He would give her all the space she needed. He would give her near enough anything right now.

Dominic’s eyes met his, and rather than the open, unguarded blue depths he saw just a few minutes before upstairs, now they were stone cold and piercing, holding Hal’s gaze for a moment before he wordlessly opened the cellar door and disappeared down the stairs, and the next moment Hal could hear him pushing open the heavy steel door.

Sighing deeply, he turned back to the sink, and somewhere behind him, he heard Tom mumble, “I thought ya guys had made up?”

“So did I,” said Hal.

“Huh,” Tom replied, and that was the end of the conversation.

Later that day, Tom went out to take the shattered remains of Dominic’s laptop in to a local computer repair shop, the sort where no warranty slips had to be produced and no awkward questions were asked. He must have felt bad for having destroyed it, Hal mused, as Tom all but bent over backwards to persuade the repairman that the data on the hard drive was a) very important and b) highly confidential, and they managed to salvage most of it, loading it onto a replacement laptop that Tom picked up the following day. 

The mattress, it turned out, was also in pieces, but so was the nature of living in a bed & breakfast that there was a quick replacement at hand, and once again Tom was the one to lug the bulky item down the stairs, with a little help from Dominic himself, on one of the handful of occasions he actually strayed outside of the cellar while Hal was in the house.

Their eyes met as Tom and Dominic walked past him in the hallway, and once again the other man was giving him an unreadable look that held none of the affection he felt in their brief encounter upstairs, and it made Hal’s heart ache dully in his chest.

Despite Dominic’s assurances to the contrary, Hal could count on one hand the times they so much as touched each other, and Dominic developed a habit of leaving the room almost as soon as he entered, giving him a look that was half longing and half resentment, as if Hal’s mere presence in his vicinity was too much for Dominic to take. For the most part, he kept himself securely locked away in the small cellar room, and even though he had his suspicions about him coming out whenever he and Tom were out at work, Alex did her best to evade his questions, giving him dark looks and snappy responses that made his heart sink every time.

Christmas Day arrived under a cover of grey clouds, and none of them felt much like celebrating, despite Tom’s well-meant but somewhat halfhearted attempt to put a tree up in the living room – a real one, of course, Tom McNair would not be seen dead with an artificial tree – that looked strangely out of place against the backdrop of the Hawaiian wall mural.

“All righ’, never mind. I put a nicer one up in Tasha’s flat anyway,” Tom grumbled, looking back and forth between his unimpressed friends.

“You mean my flat,” Dominic replied, eyes fixed on Tom because heaven forbid he so much as acknowledged Hal’s presence.

“Yeah, whatever. Not sure it even still counts as yours, mate, ya might need an invitation to get in,” Tom said, half jokingly, but the look of shock on Dominic’s face was a testament of the fact that it was too much, too soon, and Hal quickly jumped in to try and prevent any further harm.

“I’m sure it still counts as yours,” he said with a soft smile that Dominic didn’t return. “As long is you own it on paper, you don’t have to live there for it to be yours.”

Dominic sighed deeply, said, “Thanks, Hal,” and turned on his heels to leave the room, making his way back downstairs into his hideaway and leaving Hal with two pairs of hard, exasperated eyes on him.

“What?” he asked into the room at large.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Alex replied, and he didn’t have the courage to tell her that, no, he really didn’t.

He tried not to think about it too much, about either of the things that happened that morning, and he threw himself into his work instead, both around the house and at the hotel, where he offered to take on double shifts to get away from the two people that missed no opportunity to remind him of his failures. 

For the first few days, Tom watched him like a hawk, and Hal couldn’t shake the feeling that Alex must have said something to him. Not _that_ , surely, but _something_. But after he repeatedly proved himself to his friend, Tom slowly backed off, and Hal heaved a sigh of relief to not be under such constant, close scrutiny anymore, even as there was still a part of him that insisted it was necessary, and even suggested to him to ask Tom to continue.

 _I don’t need that,_ he kept telling himself. _I can control myself. The flasks make me safe._

He did wonder, sometimes, how much of that was the other one trying to lull him into a false sense of security, only to pounce again once his guard was down. At the end of the day, Hal decided, he would probably never know. 

It is in the stillness of the night, when he lies alone in the large bed and watches the light of the waning moon make shadows dance across the ceiling, that, despite his best efforts, he just isn’t able stop himself from thinking about Dominic.

Dominic, who spends most of his time writing on his laptop nowadays, according to Alex, and the rest of it staring blankly at the wall, holding hot cups of tea between his fingers in a futile attempt to simulate actual body heat.

In short, nothing at all has changed from their pre-encounter situation, and Hal is starting to think that perhaps he took advantage of Dominic in a sleep-drunk and blood-starved state that made him vulnerable and suggestible. That, and something else that Hal doesn’t really want to think about, that makes Dominic’s words to him so much less meaningful.

_“I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried.”_

_So much less meaningful,_ Hal thinks with a heavy heart. _And so much more accurate._

***

Natasha rushes down the corridor towards the locker room, stealing glances left and right to see if anyone has noticed her coming in late. Again. She doesn’t know what has been wrong with her lately, but this is the third time in a week that she has slept straight through her alarm in the morning, only to wake up with a start, not feeling refreshed at all and with a heavy nausea at the pit of her stomach that waxes and wanes but never fully goes away. 

Chest rising and falling quickly to catch her breath, she pushes open the door to the locker room and slips inside. So far, she has been lucky enough not encounter anyone else, except for Chelsea at reception, and she knows she’s not going to tell on her. 

Then she hears a faint rustling from somewhere in the corner, and she whips around to come face to face with—

“Hal,” she says faintly, then immediately plasters on her best sheepish smile and adds, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Boxing Day train schedule, completely messed up my journey.”

“That’s okay, Tasha, don’t worry,” Hal says, sounding distracted, as if he has been deep in thought about something.

She frowns. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Hal says with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I hope you had a nice Christmas?”

“I did, thanks,” Natasha answers. The truth is that, yes, the beginning of the day wasn’t bad. She had the day off, so was able to have a much needed lie-in, and then Tom came around later and cooked a full roast dinner for the two of them. She can’t even remember when she last had a proper Christmas dinner. It must have been when she still lived with one of her many foster families.

She wolfed down a full plate of turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes and mixed vegetables, before going for seconds, and then thirds. Tom smiled at her happily, glad to have found someone who appreciated his efforts.

“It’s a bit depressin’ back home at the moment, what with Dominic still bein’ sick an’ all,” he said.

She gave him a thoughtful look. “How is he doing? No better?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit better. But it just takes time, ya know.” He paused, then added, “He’s gonna be fine.”

“Of course he is,” she said, still not able to shake the feeling that there was something more going on that what everyone kept telling her. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

They opened presents after dinner, only a handful since it was just the two of them, but she was still delighted to see the two small wooden figurines that Tom had carved for her, one in the shape of a woman with slightly exaggerated breasts – she winked at him and said, “You wish,” making him blush – and the other a large, menacing looking wolf.

“’S to show ya that I’m grateful, like, that you been acceptin’ me the way I am, wolf an’ all,” he explained, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

“Of course I do, Tom,” she said. “I understand that the wolf is part of you. But at the same time, it doesn’t make you who you are. It doesn’t make you Tom. And it’s Tom that I care about.”

“Yeah, well,” he replied, ever so slightly flustered at her words, and she grinned, “jus’ wanted to show ya that I appreciate it. And that I love ya.”

She stood up on her tiptoes, leaned in and pecked him on the lips. “I love you too.”

That was the good part of Christmas Day. Unfortunately it went slightly downhill after that, when, less than fifteen minutes later, she stumbled off into the bathroom after a particularly violent wave of nausea gripped hold of her, and brought all the lovely dinner she had eaten straight back up again. 

She came out of the bathroom, embarrassed, exhausted and slightly lightheaded, wondering if maybe she had a bit too much to drink with the meal. “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I know it’s a bit of a bummer but… do you mind if I go have a lie down in the bedroom for a bit? I’m still feeling a bit rough after that.”

“‘Course not, Tasha,” Tom replied. “You go an’ lie down, I’ll stick around in case ya need anythin’.”

“Oh, no, please, don’t worry, Tom,” she said, biting her lip at the slight kicked puppy look on Tom’s face. “I’ll be fine. You go on home and… I don’t know, cheer up your housemates or something. I doubt I’ll be very good company for the rest of the evening.”

And that was that. She went to bed, fell asleep not long after, only to wake up and realise she was half an hour late for work.

Giving Hal another small smile, she asks, “What about yourself? Tom says Dominic is still not much better?”

“Unfortunately not, no,” he replies, a funny undertone in his voice, and suddenly Natasha has had enough.

“What’s going on with you two, Hal?” she snaps. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Hal sighs deeply, his eyes suddenly hard as he looks back at her. “It’s really nothing, Natasha. Don’t worry about it. Dominic hasn’t been well, and… it’s been getting to him. That’s all.”

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” she bites out, rolling her eyes as she turns away from him towards the locker. “Vampire freak,” she adds under her breath, and the unmistakable sound of Hal’s breath catching in his throat makes her freeze.

She slowly turns around to him and sees him looking at her with a sad, thoughtful expression on his face, and she frowns. It’s not like Hal to respond like that to an insult like this. 

“Perhaps you should rethink your double standards,” he says quietly.

She huffs. “If you’re talking about Tom, I can tell you that I have thought long and hard about the similarities and differences between the two of you. The thing about Tom is that he still manages to be a decent human being despite the monster inside of him. You, on the other hand…” she drifts off, shakes her head, unable to complete the thought as suddenly, a powerful wave of nausea courses through her, making her almost retch on the spot. She covers her mouth with one hand, fighting to keep her breakfast down as she quickly runs out of the locker room and into the bathroom next door, barely managing to shut the door behind her before she heaves into the toilet, the bitter taste of vomit filling her mouth and bringing tears to her eyes. 

There is a gentle knock on the door, and Hal’s concerned voice on the other side, “Are you all right, Natasha?” 

“I’m fine,” she calls irritably, quickly flushing the toilet and rinsing her mouth at the sink before opening the door and giving him an exasperated look. “Really, Hal, I’m okay,” she adds, but even to herself it sounds like a feeble lie.

Hal, predictably, frowns. “Perhaps you should go home, Tasha. We wouldn’t want you to pass anything on to any of the guests. You know how quickly these bugs can spread.”

“But I’ve only just got here!” Natasha exclaims, eyes widening at his suggestion. “Are you serious?”

Hal nods solemnly, slipping into full manager mode. “I’m afraid so, Tasha. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you took the day off.” 

She gives him a long, hard look, about to counter, but the truth is that she is already feeling another wave of nausea coming on, and she sighs and says, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go.”

She turns around and walks back down the corridor, pretending not to notice the thoughtful look that follows her.

***

Getting off the train at Cardiff Central, Natasha still shudders from the experience of throwing up into the filthy train toilet. Not her first experience of it by a long stretch, but certainly the first one while sober.

Taking a deep breath, she makes her way down the stairs and out of the station, trying to get back to the flat as quickly as possible before she gets caught out again. She weaves in and out of the steady stream of Boxing Day shoppers on Queen Street, narrowly avoiding a man that comes out of Greggs in hurried steps.

“Whoa, watch where ya goin’, love,” the man says, then takes a hearty bite out of the sausage roll in his hand, and the sight of it almost makes her heave again.

“Sorry,” she mutters, standing still for a moment to try and force down the bile starting to rise into her throat. Then her eyes fall on the Boots store next door, and a nagging thought resurfaces at the back of her mind, one that has been there for a while, suppressed, ignored, prompting her to go inside. So she knows once and for all, and can put her mind at rest. Because it’s impossible. Isn’t it?

She takes a shaky breath and enters the store, quickly finds what she is looking for and goes to pay at one of the self checkouts in order to avoid any awkward questions. Then she hurries out of the store and down the road, finally arriving at the flat. Her hands are trembling as she turns the key in the lock, and she shakes her head at herself. 

_It’s all going to be fine. What are you so afraid of?_

She makes a beeline for the bathroom, locks the door behind her even though there is no one else here. She opens the longish cardboard box and takes out the small, unassuming looking white and blue plastic stick inside. She follows the instructions on the packaging, then flushes the toilet and puts the stick down on the counter, breath sticking in her throat as she stands and waits. And waits. 

Two minutes seem like hours, in which she looks aimlessly around the room, anywhere but at the test stick, until finally the time is up and her eyes flick back down to the counter. All colour drains from her face as she stares, unbelieving, at the result window. 

Almost as if on reflex, her hand comes up to her stomach, feeling the slight rounding there that she believed – no, _wished_ – to be just bloating and a bit of extra weight from the ravenous appetite she has been getting recently.

Her drug counsellor told her that she might feel more hungry after quitting, as well as tired, lethargic and irritable. All of it fit so well that she never assumed…

No, that’s not true though. Because her drug counsellor also told her that most if not all withdrawal symptoms should have stopped about three months ago.

“Shit,” she curses under her breath, closing her eyes with her hand still roaming over her stomach, only for her eyes to fly back open again and widen in shock as she can feel something under her fingertips. She concentrates hard, keeping a light touch on her stomach, and a moment later she feels it again. Movement. From inside of her. How has she missed this up until now? 

_Because you didn’t want it to be true,_ her mind supplies, and she starts to feel sick again, but for a completely different reason this time, as another question surfaces in her mind.

_How long has this been going on for?_

***

Dominic sits on the floor in the cellar, trying desperately to keep his focus on the document on the screen in front of him, while his unhelpful mind keeps wandering off to the morning he woke up to gentle fingers caressing his cheek, and soft, warm lips pressing against his forehead. He had never expected Hal to feel so warm.

He remembers his rational mind screaming in his head that he shouldn’t allow him to continue, that he needed to get out, get away from Hal, show him that what he had done was unforgivable. But in the end, the other part won out, the one that craved the closeness, the connection, and the next thing he knew, Hal was kissing him, and it felt like the most wonderful thing in the world. All his senses went into overdrive, and he could feel a sudden, violent rush of arousal course through him that surprised and unsettled him. 

He tried his best to fight down the desire to take things further, and most of all the powerful urge to bite, to taste what was so strongly emanating from Hal, more strongly than he had ever smelled it before, even if only for the fact that they were so very, very close.

And despite asking Hal to take it slowly, despite his own best intentions not to let himself be swayed in that way, by the time Hal left the room, he felt the powerful arousal coursing outwards from the pit of his stomach, and the aching hardness in his boxers, begging to be touched. Something about it, about seeing this cold, dead, monstrous body of his responding in that way, felt inherently _wrong_ to him, and he decided that the best thing to do would be to avoid anything like it happening in the future. 

That was almost a week ago, and so far, he thinks, he has done surprisingly well.

Focusing back on the present, Dominic takes a deep breath, his finger moving across the touchpad on his laptop as he scrolls through the document labelled #OC925, to add a note to the section called ‘Property ownership and invitations’. He sighs heavily as his thoughts wander to the current inhabitant of his flat, and he can’t stop the thought that pops into his mind.

_It would be best for all involved if I really couldn’t get in._

The thought of hurting Natasha makes a cold chill run down his spine, even as there is another part of him, the new one, the one that he despises more than anything else in the world, that feels a perverse kind of thrill at the thought of driving his fangs into the girl’s neck. 

He closes his eyes and swallows, concentrating hard on burying those thoughts under a thick mound of happy and fond memories. Like the time she persuaded him to take her to McDonald’s, grinning broadly at him from behind her huge burger as he looked around him with a slightly lost expression on his face while listlessly picking at the soggy fries. Or the time she stood sobbing on his doorstep after she caught her boyfriend kissing another girl, and he brought her inside and gave her a hug, the first and only time he ever remembers initiating it, and she clung to him and gave him a soft smile and said that she envied the woman who would be lucky enough to marry him.

His chest constricts painfully as he thinks of her, of what he used to have with her, a relationship that neither of them ever managed to truly define, because it just _was_. And now, it won’t be anymore. Because he is a monster, and she is still a human, and he knows first hand what happens when the two get mixed up with each other.

And then his phone rings on the floor next to him, and he picks it up to read her name on the screen, and he scoffs at the irony of it all. He briefly considers not answering it, but the thought of cutting her out of his life completely hurts even more, so he presses the button to accept the call and brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” he says quietly, expecting to be greeted by an exasperated sigh or a huff or a giggle. 

Certainly not by Natasha sobbing on the other end, then taking a choppy breath before asking, “Dominic?”

His heart stutters out an extra beat at hearing her distraught voice. “Tasha? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she says, and another sob escapes her. “Dominic, I…”

“What, Tasha?” he asks calmly. “What’s going on? You can tell me.”

“I know,” she says. “That’s why I called you. I… I didn’t know who else…” She trails off, still crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Tasha,” he prompts again, but for a long moment, there is only the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end.

Then she takes a deep breath and asks, “How are you doing, anyway? Tom said you’re feeling a little bit better?”

Dominic sighs, dark thoughts gathering in his mind. “I’m… all right, Tasha,” he says, brushing off her question before adding, “but that is not why you’ve been calling me.”

“No, it’s not,” she admits. “I just… the thing is… I don’t know how to…” She trails off again, then takes another deep breath and blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”

Dominic’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes grow huge as his brain processes what she just told him. 

“Dominic?” she asks, sounding slightly frantic, and he realises with a jolt that he hasn’t yet said anything.

“I… Tasha, that’s…” _What?_ he asks himself. _What is it? “Great news”? “A surprise”? “A complication”?_

“I know,” she says, and he can hear the tiniest of smiles in her voice, even as her breathing is still ragged from crying. “It is, isn’t it?”

He lets out a small, dry chuckle. “Yes. Most definitely.” Then he sobers up and asks, “Does Tom know?”

This, it seems, was the wrong thing to ask, as she once again bursts out into a series of heart-wrenching sobs. “No,” she hiccups, and Dominic frowns.

“Tasha, you should speak to him about this, not me. He’s the father, he—”

“I can’t,” she cuts in, her voice suddenly hard and cold.

Dominic frowns. “Why not, Tasha?” he asks. “Are you worried because he’s a werewolf? Because I can tell you that there are several examples of—”

“No, it’s not because of that,” she says, still in that unsettling tone that doesn’t betray any emotion. 

“Then why—” he starts, but is once more cut off by Natasha taking in a sharp breath.

“Because I don’t know who the father is,” she blurts out.

Dominic’s eyes, if possible, widen even more. He opens his mouth to reply, only to find that he has no idea what to actually say. “But,” he starts, then pauses, clears his throat and tries again, “Are you telling me that you’ve been—”

“I haven’t been cheating on Tom,” she says quickly. “I mean, shit, he’s been amazing. Everything I could ever ask for. I would never… I could never do that to him.”

Dominic frowns, despite the relief he feels at her words. “But then…”

“After I did the test, I… I could feel the baby kick,” she says, then pauses as if she expects him to say something. When he doesn’t respond, she continues, “I looked it up online, and it says that, in your first pregnancy, you’re unlikely to feel the baby move until about twenty weeks, or later.”

Dominic does a quick calculation in his head, and suddenly it dawns on him. “That was all the way back in July,” he breathes, and she huffs.

“Yeah. It was. Remember where I was back then? What I was doing?”

“But,” he starts again, “didn’t you… I mean… weren’t you using—”

“Of course I was using protection!” she barks. “I’m not stupid! But sometimes things can go wrong, all right? It’s easy for you because you’re a guy, having sex with another guy, and he’s not even _alive_ ,so you hardly have to worry about STDs and stuff.”

Dominic swallows painfully, part of him wanting to tell her just how wrong she is. But now is not the time. “I’m sorry, Tasha,” he says. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were careless.”

“Yeah, never mind,” she says, sounding dejected. “Anyway, so, you understand why I can’t tell Tom. I… he wouldn’t… I can’t tell him about… he wouldn’t understand, Dominic, I know he wouldn’t.”

“You won’t be able to keep it from him forever,” he points out.

“I know. I just…” She trails off and lets out a deep sigh. “I know.” Silence falls for a long moment, before she speaks up again in a small, hesitant voice. “Dominic?”

“Yes, Tasha?”

“When you found out about Hal,” she says, cautiously, and he gets her meaning instantly, a heavy weight dropping into his stomach at the memory of what he saw during his time in purgatory, “did that change the way you felt about him?”

Dominic starts shaking his head even before she has finished speaking. “No, Tasha.”

“That’s… good to hear,” she says. “I just wish that Tom…”

“We spoke about this before, Tasha,” he says, remembering a conversation they had when he visited her in hospital. “If he really cares about you, he will continue to do so no matter what.”

A sudden ache spreads in Dominic’s chest as he reflects his own words back to himself, and the longing he feels for Hal, which is always there, just under the surface, flares up to be almost unbearable, constricting his airway and clenching his stomach and making his eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Thanks,” Natasha says quietly after a moment. “I really hope you’re right.” There is another brief pause before she once again asks, “Dominic?”

He smiles. “Yes?”

“Would you… oh god, this is really hard for me to ask, but… would you be happy to… to be the baby’s godfather?”

The smile dies on his lips. “Tasha…” He clears his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit premature to think about those things?”

“I just thought… Yeah, I guess you’re right. Never mind.”

“Tasha,” he says again, not fully knowing how to continue but unable to take the hurt and disappointment in her voice. “I… I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she replies, clearly trying her best to sound upbeat and failing miserably. “Thanks, Dominic.”

A long silence follows her statement, until eventually he says, “Take care of yourself, Tasha.”

“You too,” she says. “I really hope you’ll be better soon, this mono thing has been going on for long enough.”

“Yes,” he agrees, a lump rising in his throat. “I hope so too, but… best not to rush it.”

He doesn’t expect the next words to come out of her mouth. “Are you ever going to tell me what’s really going on?”

Dominic ignores the dull aching in his chest and steadies his voice as much as possible as he replies, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She lets out a humourless laugh. “Yeah. I get it. Well, I’ve just poured my fucking heart out to you, but… I guess each to their own.”

“I’m sorry, Tasha,” he says quietly, and he feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes when she swallows audibly and says, “I’ll see you soon.”

The call disconnects, and he sits and stares at the wall opposite, at the deep, angry new scratch marks that Tom left in the wood panels last week. His mind is reeling from his conversation with Natasha and all the implications it has for her future, for his, for Tom’s… and for the first time since he woke up in this cursed cellar, he feels completely and utterly alone.

***

The bedroom door opens, and Hal’s head whips around to see Dominic standing in the door frame, illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the window, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of checkered pyjama bottoms and throwing him a hesitant, almost confused look.

Hal doesn’t say anything, but scoots over to one side of the bed to make space for Dominic, and the blond man wordlessly pads over to the bed, pushes the covers back, and gets in.

“Dominic?” Hal asks, his voice very quiet, but still almost deafening in the silent room.

“Please just let me sleep, Hal,” Dominic replies, and turns over, facing away from him, but not before Hal can see the slight glistening in his eyes that he tries his very best to blink away.

“Of course,” Hal replies, settling back down himself, but making sure he gives Dominic plenty of space without making unnecessary contact, and he lies and listens to Dominic’s breaths, slightly faster than perhaps they should be, evening out as he drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, Dominic is gone. Hal lets out a deep sigh, gets out of bed, goes about his day as if nothing had happened. Dominic doesn’t emerge from the cellar all day, and once again, he wonders if his mind has been playing tricks on him.

But as he lies in bed that night, chasing the peace and quiet that comes with a restful night’s sleep, the door opens again, and there he is. Wordlessly, he climbs into bed next to him, turns away to face the door, and goes to sleep. Hal settles back down behind him, and if he lies a little bit closer this time, and if his left hand wanders up and around Dominic’s waist to lie feather-lightly against his stomach, the other man doesn’t do or say anything to stop him, and Hal falls asleep with a smile on his face. 

Still, when he wakes up in the morning, Dominic is nowhere to be seen.

And so it continues until, in the morning of the fourth night, Hal stirs as Dominic untangles himself from him, eyes opening to see the other man climbing out of bed and crossing the room to the door. He is just about to turn the handle when Hal calls, “Dominic, wait.”

Dominic whirls around to him, eyes wide as they look into his own. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says quietly, inching closer towards the door with every passing second.

Hal sits up in bed. “Don’t leave,” he says. 

Dominic swallows. “I… I don’t think…”

“Please, Dominic,” he says, getting out of bed and walking over towards the door. He can see Dominic tense up as he comes towards him, and he reaches out a hesitant hand to grasp Dominic’s own. “Please,” he says again. “Don’t leave.”

Dominic’s hand closes around his, and he sighs. “Hal, I… I shouldn’t…”

“You said this was okay,” Hal replies, lightly squeezing Dominic’s hand.

Blue eyes dart down to their joint hands, before coming back up to gaze into Hal’s. 

“You also said that this was okay,” Hal continues, leaning in slowly, giving Dominic plenty of time to move away before he closes the gap between them and captures the other’s lips in a quick, gentle kiss. 

Dominic sighs softly as he pulls away, looking down on the floor, a small crease forming on his brow. Then his eyes come back up to meet Hal’s, with an intensity that takes his breath away.

“Okay,” Dominic breathes, before leaning in again, both hands coming up to cradle Hal’s head as his lips meet his own in a hungry, open mouthed kiss. 

Hal moans loudly at the sudden, unexpected assault, as Dominic starts walking back into the room, forcing him to step backwards until his legs make contact with the bed frame, and he lets himself fall onto the mattress, pulling Dominic down on top of him.

“Mmmh,” Dominic moans, straddling his waist and one hand each side of his head, before he leans back in for another hungry kiss. They kiss like this for a long time, and Hal can find his boxers growing tighter around himself, when Dominic suddenly pulls away, looking up at something on Hal’s bedside table. “It’s only five in the morning,” he says, eyes finding his own and never straying from their target as he slowly climbs off of Hal and lies down on his side, facing him. “Could we maybe just… go back to sleep for a bit?”

Hal can’t help the small, disbelieving laugh that escapes his mouth. “You never used to be such a tease.”

“I never used to be a vampire,” Dominic replies, deadpan, and Hal laughs again.

“True, I guess.”

Dominic lifts his eyebrows at him. “So… sleep?”

Hal rolls onto his side, one hand coming up to lightly brush over a stubbly cheek.

“You need a shave,” he says, and Dominic sighs.

“Okay. Later,” he says, bringing his own hand up to lift Hal’s off of his cheek and pulling it down to lie on the mattress between them, clasped in his own. “But for now, can I please get some more sleep?”

Hal can feel a small smile spreading on his lips. “All right, Blondie,” he says.

“Thanks,” Dominic replies sleepily, and Hal watches blue eyes fall shut behind pale eyelids, and his own eyes close a moment later, and his hand firmly holds onto the other one in its grasp.

And for the first time since that gruesome night, more than two weeks ago, he feels like the world is right again.


	8. Dreams and Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos!

Getting hard to sleep  
Blood is in my dreams  
Love is killing me  
Tryin' to figure it out

\- Royal Blood, “Figure It Out”

 

_Dominic swiftly walks down the pavement, his right hand firmly held in Hal’s grasp. They have been walking for about fifteen minutes now, and the quiet residential roads have given way to a busy shopping street._

_Dominic holds his breath and focuses his attention on the sound of his and Hal’s fast steps on the pavement, to try and block out the cacophony of heartbeats all around him. A group of tipsy girls wearing high heels on unsteady feet stumble out of a night club a short distance ahead, and Dominic pulls on Hal’s hand to avoid crashing right into them._

_Hal turns around to him with a smile on his face. “Are you all right?”_

_“I… don’t think so, no,” Dominic says, looking back and forth between Hal and the group of girls, who have now stopped on the pavement in front of them and look like they are arguing about something._

_Hal follows his gaze to the small group, a glint in his eye as he turns back around to Dominic and says, “Hmm, I didn’t think you’d go for that kind of thing. But by all means, surprise me. I won’t object.”_

_“What?” Dominic chokes out, a lump forming in his throat. “No. I… I didn’t mean…”_

_“Oh, but I can hear it in your voice, Dominic,” Hal says with a quiet sort of confidence. “I can see it in the way you’re looking at them. There is no point in fighting it, you’re going to give in eventually.”_

_Dominic shakes his head. “No. You’re wrong. I will never do that.”_

_Hal gives him a scrutinising look for a moment, then turns back to the group of girls, a crease appearing in his brow. “I suppose, I didn’t think they’d be right for you. No, we’ll need to keep looking for something more… appealing, perhaps.”_

_Dominic shakes his head once more, even as Hal tugs on his hand to get him moving again, past the group of girls, who are now huddling around one of them holding a phone to her ear and, by the sounds of it, calling a taxi. “No, Hal, I don’t think you understand—”_

_“I understand perfectly, Dominic,” Hal just says, calmly, as he keeps pulling Dominic along with him. “I understand your reluctance better than you might think. I’ve seen it so many times before. Hell, I’ve even been there myself, a long time ago. The first time is difficult for a lot of us, but take my word for it, it gets easier after that.”_

_Dominic gives Hal’s hand a powerful yank, forcing him to stop. “I don’t want it to get easier,” he spits out as Hal turns around to him with raised eyebrows. “I don’t want to do it at all, do you understand? I’m not like you, Hal, I refuse to be like you. I’d rather die than turn into… that.”_

_There is a look of fond exasperation on Hal’s face now, and Dominic has to fight the urge to punch it right off. “But don’t you see, Dominic?” Hal asks, still in that calm, self-assured tone that makes his hackles rise. “You already are_ that. _All you are doing is denying yourself what is meant to be yours by nature.”_

_Dominic scoffs. “Nature? There’s nothing natural about this, Hal.”_

_Hal just smiles at him, then looks past him at something a little further down the road, before his eyes come back to Dominic and he says, “Just one moment.” Then he is off at breakneck speed, and Dominic is left for a moment standing alone on the pavement, taking deep breaths to calm himself, to ignore his body’s response to the humans all around him, before, as if pulled by an invisible thread, he sets himself in motion and jogs in the direction Hal has disappeared in, down a small side street._

_And there he is, standing a few yards away from him, pressing the body of a young man up against a brick wall. The man is a couple of inches taller than Hal, but seems to have realised that he doesn’t stand a chance against the other’s superior strength and reflexes, as he stands stock still with his back against the wall, watching Hal’s every movement with bated breath._

_At Dominic’s approach, Hal’s head whips around in his direction, and a small smile spreads on his lips. “There you are. I knew you were going to join me eventually.”_

_“What are you doing, Hal?” Dominic asks, approaching slowly despite his rational mind’s insistence that it is_ not a good idea _, his eyes darting between Hal and the young man in front of him. He is undeniably handsome, Dominic thinks, with short dark brown curls and big brown eyes that widen even more as they take in Dominic._

_“Shit, man, what is wrong with you freaks?” the man asks, and it is only then that Dominic notices the shift in colour in his surroundings, so much less noticeable in the dark side street, and feels the sharp tips of his fangs as he cautiously runs his tongue over them. He wants to run, wants to hide away in the safety of his cellar and never come out again, but he finds that he can’t make himself turn around, that his legs carry him closer and closer to the man and to Hal without his conscious input._

_“I got you something,” Hal says conversationally, ignoring the man, who his trying with all his might now to push him off of him._

_“Let me the fuck go!” the man yells at Hal, a slightly hysterical note in his voice. “What’s your game, anyway? You part of some cult or something? Or just really into fancy dress? ‘Cause let me tell you, I’m not fucking scared of you.”_

Then why is your heart speeding up so rapidly? _Dominic thinks before he can stop himself, at the same time as Hal lets out a hollow laugh and says, “Of course you’re not.” He turns around to face the man fully, his own eyes now black as the night and fangs fully visible in his slightly open mouth. “You’re not scared. You’re fucking terrified. And let me tell you a little secret.” He leans in close to the man, lips brushing against his earlobe, and Dominic feels an ugly surge of jealousy coursing through him. Then Hal’s eyes flick over to him, pure black gazing into pure black, and he whispers into the man’s ear, “You should be,” before moving in and sinking his fangs into his neck._

 _Dominic feels a sudden, almost overwhelming sense of_ want, need, must have, must taste, _and before he knows it, he is standing next to Hal, and the smell of the fresh human blood in the air is drowning out everything else around him. Hal lifts off the man’s neck with a chuckle and a smile, and all Dominic can see is_ red, red, red, _and he leans in and kisses the blood right off Hal’s lips, and then Hal pulls back from him, and there is a hand at the back of his neck, guiding him forwards, and then his mouth clamps down over the large, open wound in the man’s neck, and he drinks…_

Dominic awakes with a start, eyes flying open, breaths coming in fast, ragged gasps and an undeniable tightness in his boxers. He runs his tongue over his teeth, not surprised when he feels sharp fangs protruding from his gums. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he forces a deep breath into his lungs, then another, and another, until he can start to feel the excitement and arousal slowly dissipate, to make way for the feelings of shame and disgust that usually follow them, every time he wakes up from one of these dreams. They always seem to follow a similar pattern, and have most certainly become more frequent as the days have passed. 

Hal stirs next to him, and he starts. He had forgotten that he stayed in their room this morning, rather than going back into the cellar, where it is safe and he can ride out the aftereffects of the dreams in peaceful solitude, without the interference of—

“Are you okay?” Hal asks, and Dominic can feel him moving next to him on the mattress.

He sighs and opens his eyes to see Hal propped up on one elbow, looking at him with a crease in his brow. Giving him a small nod, he says, “Yes, I’m fine.”

Hal just keeps those big, beautiful, hazel eyes trained on him and says, “It was a dream, wasn’t it.”

It isn’t a question as much as a statement that requires confirmation, and Dominic nods. “Yes.”

Giving him a knowing look, Hal asks, “Have you been getting them a lot?”

Dominic swallows, notices that despite his best effort, his fangs are still out. He looks away from Hal, fixes his eyes on a small mark on the ceiling, and nods again. “Most nights.”

Hal’s free hand reaches out and across to lightly cup his cheek. “Dominic,” he says, while his hand gently guides his head around to face him. “You don’t have to hide those from me,” he says quietly, eyes darting down to Dominic’s mouth for a split second before looking back into his own.

“I…” Dominic starts, but doesn’t know how to continue, so just sighs and nods again. “I’m not even…” he begins again after a moment, then trails off once more. Taking a deep breath, he tries a third time, “Sometimes, they stay out for a long time after…”

“I know,” Hal says quickly, clearly taking pity on him, and Dominic feels a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything. “It will get easier to control it, in time, you’ll see. Just like everything else.” He leans in and gently presses his lips to Dominic’s for a fraction of a second. The slight pressure against his mouth makes the tips of his fangs poke into the inside of his bottom lip, not quite hard enough to break through, but the sensation nonetheless causes a strange little twinge at the bottom of his stomach.

He sighs. “As if being a teenager once wasn’t bad enough.”

To his dismay, Hal laughs loudly. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a difficult time picturing you as a hormonal teenager.”

Dominic snorts. “While I can’t say that I particularly enjoyed those years, I actually don’t think that I was, in that sense. Compared to most others, at least.”

“Neither was I, believe it or not,” Hal replies, with a grave undertone in his voice that has Dominic looking up at him.

“I’m… sorry,” he says, unsure of how else to reply to Hal’s statement. Unsure of whether there is a right thing to say to the implication that, while he was sitting in class, silently wondering why he wasn’t remotely attracted to any of the girls around him when practically every other boy in his class had been on at least one date, Hal was forced to sell his body for sex with men three times his age, and probably never even considered the possibility of dating and romance.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” Hal replies quietly, then clears his throat loudly and gives him a thoughtful look. “Anyway, do you want to talk about it? The dream?”

As relieved as he is by Hal’s sudden change of subject, Dominic wishes he could have picked anything other than… that. Does he want to talk about it? The honest answer is, no, he wants to forget about it as soon as he possibly can, but he also knows that that is not really an option, so he sighs and says, “It’s always pretty similar. I’m walking down the street, I think it’s Barry High Street, but I’m not quite sure. Everything looks a bit different in a dream, you know what it’s like.” Hal nods, and he continues, “It’s night time, but it’s busy. There are people everywhere, groups of people, walking down the pavement, coming out of pubs…” He trails off, takes a deep breath. “You’re there with me.”

Hal looks at him sharply. “I am?”

Dominic starts to nod, then creases his brow and bites his lip. “Well, _he_ is.”

Hal tries and fails to sound nonchalant when he says, “I see.”

Dominic nods. “Yes. I… don’t know why it’s him, it should be you. I mean, he… he’s been pretty quiet these last few weeks, hasn’t he?” He almost misses the shadow that falls over Hal’s face for the tiniest moment, before he manages to school his features back into a neutral expression. Almost, but not quite. “Hal?”

“Yes, indeed,” Hal says, a fraction too loudly, and Dominic narrows his eyes. 

“Hal?” he asks again. “What aren’t you telling me? Is he… is he in there with you… again?”

Hal lets out a mirthless laugh. “He always is.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Dominic replies, starting to feel a wave of irritation run through him at Hal’s evasive behaviour. Hormonal teenager indeed. “I meant, I thought you built up a barrier between you and him, or something. Are you saying it’s not working?”

Hal sighs, giving him a thin smile. “It never fully does. I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… we were talking about you, not me.”

Dominic looks at him intensely for a moment, trying to read on his face whatever it is that Hal is not telling him, but he comes up short. With a sigh, he says, “Technically, we were talking about you. In my dream. But if it’s all the same to you… I’d really rather not talk about it at all.”

“He makes you drink blood,” Hal says, another statement. He doesn’t even wait for Dominic to confirm or deny it this time before asking, “Does he make you kill someone?”

“Hal,” Dominic says with a frustrated sigh. “I said I don’t want—”

“It’s not good for you to keep all that bottled up inside, Dominic,” Hal says, once again lifting his hand to gently run it over the side of his face. “You should talk about it with someone who understands.”

Dominic scoffs, pushing Hal’s hand away from him. “You mean someone without whom I wouldn’t have had the dreams in the first place? Because I’d be—”

“Dead?” Hal throws in, a hard edge in his voice now, and he pulls back and sits up, facing away from Dominic. “Because that’s what you would be now. Knowing you, you wouldn’t even have stayed around for long, straight through the Door and that would’ve been it. That’s what they asked of you all along, wasn’t it?”

Dominic sighs, opens his mouth to retort something, but thinks better of it. “Yes, Hal,” he says. “That’s what they asked of me. And I did it, because I knew I wasn’t going to get another chance. Because they would take me again, without allowing me to…” 

“To what, Dominic?” Hal asks, turning around and giving him a quizzical look. “What do you mean, take you again?”

Dominic sits up as well, looks down at his lap and swallows. How could they not have spoken about this before now?

 _Because you refused to speak to him full stop,_ a voice at the back of his mind reminds him, and he smiles grimly. 

“To say goodbye to you. Because when I had the accident, that’s… the reason they allowed me to come back.”

“To say goodbye?” Hal asks, disbelief in his voice.

Dominic nods without looking up. “If I’d known then what I do now, I would’ve stayed dead,” he says quietly, then slowly swings his legs over the edge of the bed and gets up. He can feel Hal’s eyes on him as he crosses the room, but he doesn’t turn around, and instead focuses his attention on fighting down the relentless pangs of hunger deep in the pit of his stomach.

He has one hand on the door handle, about to open the door, when he hears Hal’s voice, so quiet he could almost convince himself he is imagining it. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t turn around, but inclines his head in a brisk nod before he opens the door and steps through into the hallway. Behind him, he can hear Hal let out a small sigh of relief.

***

Hal stares at the closed door for a long moment after Dominic has left, wondering if this is ever going to get easier. He was so grateful when Dominic allowed himself to stay here with him this morning, but there is obviously still so much anger, so much resentment inside of him for what Hal did that there is a tiny part of him that is starting to question whether he actually made the right decision. 

He quickly shoots that thought down. Of course he did. What else could he have done? Dominic just needs some time to adjust. He is actually doing surprisingly well, all things considered. 

_He would do a lot better with a mentor who would actually show him the ropes, rather than pack him in cotton wool and support his stupid little quest for total abstinence,_ the other one says, as clear as day, and Hal frowns.

 _What the hell are you doing back in my head?_ he asks irritatedly. 

The other one scoffs. _Your head? I beg your pardon?_

 _You have no right to be here, to talk to me, to_ exist _after the stunt you pulled the other night,_ Hal snaps, his nostrils flaring as he tries with all his might to pull the wall back up inside of his mind.

The other one laughs. _Yes, I rather caught you off guard with that, didn’t I. My apologies._

 _Just fuck off, and leave Dominic alone,_ Hal says, now squeezing his eyes shut as he still tries to rebuild the brittle barrier inside his mind. Finally, he can feel the other one retreating, and he releases a deep breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

He reaches out a hand and pulls his bedside drawer open, eyes falling on the small flask inside, and he can feel a flicker of hunger stir at the bottom of his stomach. With a sigh, his fingers close around the cold glass, and he swiftly unscrews the top and lifts the flask up to his lips, taking a large gulp, then another, and another, and before he knows it, the last drop of stale, old blood falls onto his tongue, and he savours it in his mouth for a long moment before swallowing.

The effects the blood has on his body and mind are immediate, and even though they don’t hit him with the same intensity as fresh blood directly from the vein would, he still relishes in the calming, soothing effect the red liquid has on his tense body and frayed nerves. 

If only he could persuade Dominic that this really is the way to put at least a temporary end to his suffering, just like he always used to preach to Hal. The role reversal would make him laugh, if it wasn’t so tragic.

He screws the top back onto the flask, shuts the bedside drawer and is just about to stand up when his phone vibrates on the wooden surface of the bedside table.

 _Not again,_ he thinks, a lump rising into his throat as he picks up the phone and immediately recognises the number at the top of the text message. 

_**Hi Hal,**_ he reads, and his heart sinks at the familiar way this complete stranger addresses him. It can only mean one thing. Swallowing thickly, he continues, _**I know you said that I shouldn’t text you, in case “someone” sees the message. What does that even mean, btw? I mean, you’re not married or something, are you? Please tell me if you are, because that would just be weird. But being what you are… never mind, I’m rambling. I was going to say, I’m so glad you changed your mind, and I really enjoyed seeing you again the other day. It was a shame that you weren’t able to stay, but at least we got to spend some time together, and the food was delicious.**_

 _What?_ Hal thinks, the phone falling into his lap as the lump in his throat prevents him from breathing. _What the fuck did you do?_ he asks then, directing the question at the other one, but the barrier he rebuilt in his mind less than five minutes ago holds, and there is nothing but silence in reply. With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, he picks the phone back up again to read the rest of the message.

_**I was wondering when you would want to meet up again? I obviously don’t know much about these things (as I told you the other night, and just fyi I don’t appreciate being teased like that. I can hardly be expected to be an expert on vampires from the off), but I would guess that you need a somewhat regular supply so, I don’t know. Let me know, okay? I’ll be here. J**_

Hal slowly shakes his head back and forth in disbelief as he gets to the bottom of the message. When did this happen? Why doesn’t he have any recollection of it?

 _What the hell are you doing to me?_ he shouts inwardly, not particularly expecting an answer, so not too surprised when there isn’t one. Looking back down at his phone, Hal quickly composes his thoughts and types out a reply.

**Jamie, I told you several times now please not to contact me. What happened the other day was a mistake, one that I thoroughly regret now. You are correct, I am in a committed relationship with someone else, and I don’t want to continue going behind their back to see you. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you understand. Hal**

With a deep breath, he skim reads back over the message before hitting ‘Send’. Then he locks the phone and stores it away in his pocket, stands up and makes his way into the bathroom. It’s time to face the day.

***

Alex looks up from the TV screen when she hears quiet footsteps entering the room from the kitchen. Her eyes fall on Dominic, who is carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a plate holding a single slice of toast with just butter on it in the other. There is a small crease in his brow as he puts both items down the dining table and takes a seat. One of his hands remains clasped around the mug, but he makes no move to either lift it to his lips, or to pick up the toast.

Alex stands up and slowly ambles over towards the dining table, but Dominic pays her no mind. His eyes are fixed on the sad looking slice of toast in front of him, and he looks like he is inwardly psyching himself up to trying it.

“Go on, Blondie. It’s not going to kill you,” Alex says encouragingly, and his head snaps up, as if he really only now notices her presence in the room.

He gives her a small, sad smile. “Perhaps I’d be more likely to try it if there was a chance that it might,” he says quietly, and Alex sighs.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine this morning.”

Dominic huffs. “Aren’t I always?” 

Alex lets out a small laugh. “True, that.” Then she indicates the toast on the plate in front of him and says, “There must be a reason you made that, though. I mean, you wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t want to at least give it a go.”

“I’m hungry,” is all Dominic says, with a bitter undertone in his voice that leaves no doubt about the real meaning of his words. 

Alex sits down at the table across from him, giving him a thoughtful look. “It’s not getting any better then?”

“No,” Dominic says, shaking his head. “I’m not sure… I don’t know if it’s actually going to _get better_ , or if I’m just supposed to learn to live with it better.”

“Huh,” Alex says, mulling that thought over in her head. “Maybe you need to ask Hal about that.” Then her eyes dart around the room, and up to the clock behind the bar, which reads nine thirty. Looking back towards Dominic, she asks, “Where is Hal, anyway?”

“Probably in the bathroom,” Dominic says with a small shrug, eyes fixed on the plate in front of him when he quietly adds, “or having breakfast.”

It takes Alex a moment to understand what he is talking about, and, unsure of how to reply, she just gives him a small nod in acknowledgement. She has kept her word to Hal not to talk about what happened in the hotel that night, but the knowledge of it weighs heavy on her heart, and despite rationally knowing that it wasn’t _their_ Hal that did it, there is still a part of her that finds it hard to look at him. To be around him. To see him laughing and smiling with Tom and making doe eyes at Dominic when a little more than a week ago, he _killed_ a person.

“In reply to your first point,” Dominic says then, and Alex starts slightly when she realises where her thoughts have been wandering off to, “all he will tell me is that I’m a unique case, because there has never been a vampire that hasn’t had any blood at all, blah blah blah. Apparently detoxing is quite a different thing to what I’m experiencing at the moment.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense,” Alex says. “And you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to try the fl—”

“Yes, Alex, I’m sure, thanks,” Dominic says curtly, giving her a thin-lipped smile, before finally loosening his fingers from around the mug and lifting up the toast. He takes a hearty bite out of it and starts chewing, a pained grimace appearing on his face. Alex watches as he chews and chews for much longer than should be necessary, then takes a large gulp of tea in an obvious bid to get the food down his throat, and eventually he swallows thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s disgusting,” he laments.

Alex is opening her mouth to reply when there is another voice drifting over from the door. “Your body is technically not designed to eat solids like that anymore.” She looks up to see Hal standing in the doorway, throwing Dominic a commiserating look before slowly walking towards the table. Dominic turns around to him, an almost comical mixture of anger and misery on his face. 

“So what, I should start eating soups? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

Hal lets out a small laugh. “No, of course not.” He comes to a halt next to Dominic’s chair, leans down and places a small kiss on the left side of his temple, and Alex is surprised to see Dominic lean into the touch rather than flinch away, as happened almost every time Hal tried to initiate any kind of touch since… well. Hal straightens up, gives Dominic a soft smile and continues, “You’ll get used to it eventually, but it will take time.”

“Well,” Dominic says with a small frown. “I guess if there is anything I’ve got way too much of now, it’s time.”

Hal smiles back at him, but the smile looks slightly forced. Then he takes a seat at the table between the two of them, gives Alex a quick look and a nod in greeting, before his eyes come back to Dominic, and he adds, “I’m glad you are starting to eat some food. In fact, the timing couldn’t have been better, seeing as I was planning to cook dinner for you tomorrow.”

Dominic’s eyes widen slightly as he looks back at Hal. “You were?”

“Yes,” Hal says with a nod, then throws another glance towards Alex. “For all of you, actually. Sorry, Alex, I know you can’t… I’ll let you taste it, if you like.”

Alex can’t help but narrow her eyes at him. What has brought this on? Is this Hal’s way of apologising to her, of making amends? 

“What’s the occasion?” Dominic asks, voicing at least part of her thoughts.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Hal points out with a small shrug. “I figured since we already pretty much missed Christmas, it would be nice for all of us to get together and just… I don’t know, have a good time. I thought it might be a good opportunity to… leave the past behind us and look to the future instead.” His eyes dart between Dominic and Alex, conveying a slightly different meaning to each of them, even though part of it is clearly lost on Dominic. 

_And long may that continue,_ Alex thinks. It doesn’t bear thinking about what Dominic would do if he knew what Hal has done, especially in the fragile state he is in at the moment. 

To her surprise, Dominic gives Hal a soft smile and says, “I think I’d like that.”

Hal smiles back at him, looking deeply into his eyes, and suddenly Alex feels like an intruder in a moment that is way too intimate for her to witness. “I’m glad you think so,” Hal replies, leans forward across the table and lightly pecks Dominic on the lips. Then he picks up the slice of toast from Dominic’s plate and takes a large bite out of it before holding it out to Dominic with an expectant expression on his face. Dominic looks back and forth between Hal’s face and his hand holding the toast, looking confused, until Hal swallows his own mouthful and says, “You better start practising. I’m not going to cook a three course meal just for myself and Tom.”

Dominic throws one more quick glance at the food in Hal’s hand, then turns towards Alex, his eyes big and pleading.

Alex laughs. “You heard him, Blondie,” she says, and laughs again as Dominic gives her a look of complete and utter betrayal before, with a deep sigh, he takes the toast out of Hal’s hand and gives it an unenthusiastic nibble. 

He washes the food down with another large gulp of tea, then gives Hal a dark look. “I blame you,” he says indignantly, and Alex can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth, relieved when she sees a similar one appearing on Hal’s lips.

“I think that’s fair,” Hal says, doing his best to school his face back into a serious expression.

“I used to like toast,” Dominic continues, sounding more like a petulant child than Alex would ever have thought possible of the normally so serious and composed man. 

“I’m sorry,” Hal replies, being shot down a moment later by another sharp look from Dominic.

“You should be. I used to like tea, as well, without having to put three sugars into it in order to taste anything. _Three_ , Hal.”

Alex raises her eyebrows in Hal’s direction. “Are all newborn vampires this whiny?” she asks, and Hal finally loses the fight against the smile that has been tugging at his lips.

“Excuse me, whiny?” Dominic asks, narrowing his eyes at her, and she nods.

“Yeah, whiny. As in, you’re almost as bad as my little brothers.” She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, taking in the indignant expression on his face, then shakes her head and adds, “Scratch that. You’re worse.”

“Yes, well, perhaps that’s all part of being a hormonal teenager,” Dominic grumbles, and to Alex’s surprise, Hal bursts out laughing. Dominic glares at him for a moment, then stands up abruptly with a quiet “Excuse me” on his lips. He crosses the room to the the door, and she can hear his footsteps down the hallway and up the stairs.

“What was that about?” she asks Hal, following his gaze to the doorway.

Hal sighs. “He’s… finding it hard to adjust, that’s all. Give him time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Alex says, nodding slowly, and silence falls for a long moment, before it is interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a phone vibrating. Alex reaches into her pocket reflexively, but shakes her head a moment later, wondering who would be texting her anyway. She looks up to see Hal glancing at the screen of his own phone, a deep crease in his brow. “You all right?” she asks, and Hal’s head whips up towards her.

“Yes,” he says, sounding slightly strangled, before he plasters on a small, but clearly fake smile and adds, “It was nothing, just one of those… what do you call them… spam messages?” He shakes his head, frowning. “Why do you call it ‘spam’, anyway? To me, that means low quality meat in a tin.”

 _Nice try, Hal,_ she thinks, watching him closely as he locks his phone and puts it back into his pocket. Then his eyes come up to meet hers, and he gives her a questioning look.

“I don’t know, Hal,” she says in answer to his question, before immediately following it with, “So, how’s your murdering lunatic today?”

Hal’s eyes widen, then dart over towards the door, but there is no sign of Dominic or Tom anywhere, so he turns back around to her and says, “I wouldn’t know.”

“What, you’re not talking to him in there?” Alex asks, indicating Hal’s head, and he snorts. 

“Not if I can help it.”

“So you do, sometimes,” Alex concludes.

Hal sighs. “Only if it’s inevitable.” Then he looks straight into her eyes and asks, “Why are we talking about this, Alex?”

“I just wanted to make sure we’re not in for any more nasty surprises, that’s all,” she says. 

He sighs again, then shakes his head, looks down at the table top and says, “I wish I could promise you that, Alex. Really, I do.”

She gives him a long, thoughtful look then, thinking back to the time when he told her about ‘the other one’ for the first time. It still to this day baffles her to think about two different people residing in Hal’s mind. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks, and she realises she must have been staring.

Shaking herself, she says, “Nothing,” before immediately following it up with a small smile and adding, “I still find it hard to get my head around… you know. Dominic says it’s… Dissociative Identity Disorder?” Hal nods solemnly. “And you’ve had this since you were a kid?” Hal nods again, and she looks at him with a furrowed brow. “What happened to you, Hal? I mean, I know you said that you went through some tough shit, but… this is…”

“I’m not going to talk about it, Alex,” he says firmly, and she knows there is no way she is going to change his mind. 

She sighs, giving him a sad smile. “Does Dominic know?” she asks, and to her relief, he gives her a small nod.

“Yes, he does.”

“Did you tell him?” she asks.

He shakes his head, still looking down at the table top. “He saw it.” She frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything more, and after a moment he looks up and adds, “In purgatory.”

“Right,” she says, then remembers the original purpose of the conversation, and asks, “So you haven’t heard anything else from him? Do you think he’s… gone, for now?”

Hal sighs. “I honestly can’t be sure anymore, Alex. But please believe me that I’ll do whatever I can to keep him in check.” He looks up at her then, giving her a thin smile. “Thank you again, for what you did. I know it… can’t have been easy for you. I appreciate that. And thank you also for not saying anything.”

“Yeah,” she says, because what else is there to say to that, when he looks at her with those big, innocent hazel eyes that scream, _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it, it was the evil monster living inside my mind._ “Yeah,” she says again, giving him a small smile that he returns tenfold, even as there is a tiny voice at the back of her mind, getting louder and louder with each passing second.

_Are you really sure about this, Millar?_


	9. The New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Somehow, I always end up being about six months out of sync with what's happening in the story, so... erm... here's to New Year's celebrations in July.
> 
> Also, major fluff warning for this chapter. You have been warned :)

So this is the new year  
And I don't feel any different  
The clanking of crystal  
Explosions off in the distance  
In the distance

\- Death Cab for Cutie, “The New Year”

 

Hal is setting the tables in the dining room ready for afternoon tea, his thoughts drifting off to all the preparations he still has to make for tonight’s dinner. He knows he is not a bad cook, and he has done this kind of thing plenty of times before, and yet… this time is different. He knows he has to get it right. It has to be…

It has to be perfect. For Dominic. For Alex. For Tom, who has given him this second chance without as much as batting an eyelid, and who has no idea that he has already betrayed his trust in the worst possible way. For a way out of this mess that they have got themselves into, that _he_ has got them into. That he has got himself into, as well.

As much as he tries to convince himself otherwise, ever since the incident with Karen, he has been finding it increasingly difficult to make it through a day on just one measly flask of blood. There are times now, when things get particularly bad, when he has one and a half, or even two, and Alex never even comments when he asks her for another one. She just sighs and rent-a-ghosts to wherever it is that she keeps them – he has to give it to her, she is good at keeping secrets – and reappears a moment later, holding the small bottle out to him with that look of disappointment on her face that he knows much too well by now.

But the stale blood in the flask never quite satisfies the urge inside of him, and being in the hotel, surrounded by people, has been testing him to the limits these last few days.

A very distinct smell wafts over to him then, one that reminds him of something that used to be, something that isn’t any more, and he looks up sharply to see Louise walking over to him across the empty dining room, biting her lip and straightening the hem of her maroon waistcoat.

“Hey, Hal,” she says with a nervous smile as she comes to a stop across the table from him.

Hal tries not to pay too much attention to the way she is still absentmindedly worrying her lip and instead focuses on a stray lock of her honey blonde hair.

“Louise,” he says, tension creeping into his voice. He clears his throat. “How can I help you?”

A crease forms in Louise’s brow. “I… just had a phone call from Cheshire Police,” she says, eyes wide and full of worry, and Hal’s stomach drops.

“The police? What about?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant even as he feels a frown settle on his own face.

“Well, that’s why I’m coming to you,” Louise says. “You remember that guest that checked out late at night? The woman who’s husband left earlier that day?”

Hal’s stomach feels like it is twisted into a thousand knots. He nods hastily. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well,” Louise says with a sigh. “It looks like she never made it home. She’s gone missing.”

Hal’s frown deepens. “She… has?”

Louise nods jerkily. ”Yes,” she says, taking in a slightly ragged breath. “Her husband apparently reported her missing after she hadn’t come home for a few days. At first he thought that she was just mad at him, and that she was staying here on her own to spite him, but then…” She drifts off, then looks straight at him, and there is an odd quality in her voice when she says, “They… the police… they wanted to make sure that she definitely left the hotel that night.”

Hal swallows down the acid that has made it into his throat. “Of course she did, I checked her out myself,” he says, feigning a confidence that he most definitely isn’t feeling. “Now, I understand that this must be quite upsetting for you, but she… she must have gone missing after she left the hotel. It was late at night, I don’t know what her plan was, how she was going to get home from here at that time.” He musters a small smile. “But you can rest assured that she left here fit and well that night, if a little bit distraught about the argument with her husband.”

“That’s the thing,” Louise says, biting her lip again, and Hal inwardly curses the way the small movement makes his hunger flare. “Should we have let her go, in the state she was in? What if… she…?”

“Louise,” Hal says, his voice dropping deeper than he had intended, and her eyes flick up to him instantly, giving him a look that he can’t quite interpret. “She didn’t seem like she was a danger to herself. I wouldn’t have just let her leave if I thought she was.” Louise opens her mouth to say something else, but Hal holds his hand up to stop her, and continues, “She was fine, Louise. There is nothing any of us could have done differently.”

Louise looks back at him for a long moment, then finally lets out a deep sigh and says, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” She drifts off again, and the look on her face shifts to a somewhat forced, but genuine smile. “What’s your plan for tonight, then? Going to watch the fireworks?”

Hal thinks for a moment, then gives her a nod. “Most likely, yes.”

“Alone?” Louise asks, a glint in her eyes, and Hal barks out a laugh.

“No, not alone.”

Her face falls. “Oh.”

Hal sighs. “Louise, I’m sorry.”

“You’re in a relationship?”

“Yes,” he says with conviction. If only he could convince himself of that fact just as easily. Dominic has certainly not made it very easy recently.

“Well, in that case,” Louise says, fingers busy fidgeting with the hem of her uniform again, “have a great evening.”

“You too, Louise,” Hal says with a small smile that she doesn’t get to see, as she has already turned on her heels and made her way back to the reception desk.

_You like her,_ the other one says loud and clear in his mind then, and Hal grits his teeth.

_Leave me alone,_ he replies tersely, but just as expected, the other one takes absolutely no notice.

_Tell me I’m wrong,_ he taunts, prompting a sigh from Hal.

_You’re wrong._

_Oh but I know you’re lying to me, Hal. I can tell. I can feel it._

_Shut the fuck up!_ Hal shouts inwardly.

_Tsk, tsk, Hal, I don’t deserve to be shouted at like that,_ the other one replies, and Hal feels like he is seconds away from punching a hole into the nearest wall.

_You deserve a lot more than that._

The other one sighs. _Oh Hal. Why do you torture yourself like that? You like her, admit it. I’m not quite sure why, to be honest, she just seems a little too… nice, too innocent. But then again, sometimes those ones can be great fun—_

_Shut up!_ Hal shouts again. He is breathing heavily now, hands gripping the table top hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He steals a quick look around the room and is relieved to see that he is still alone in the large room. _Go away and let me get on with my work,_ he adds, slightly calmer.

The other one laughs. _Yes, your_ work. _God, Hal, do you remember the times when we commanded an army? How could you let yourself fall so far?_

We _didn’t command an army,_ Hal bites out. You _did._ I _am trying to hold on to the last little bit of sanity and normality I can have in this life, and I want you to go back to sleep and leave me and Dominic and Louise and everyone else here alone, you hear me?_

There is silence in his head for a long time following his outburst, and Hal starts to think that perhaps the other one has finally given up trying to convert him to his cause, when suddenly there is a deep chuckle. _Of course, that’s what it is._

Hal frowns. _What are you talking about?_

_The girl,_ the other one clarifies. _The reason you like her so much._

_Oh yes?_ Hal asks with a huff.

_Yes,_ the other one says. _O negative._

Hal’s fist makes contact with the table top, sending a sharp pain up his arm and through his shoulder, and he winces.

_Fuck you,_ he growls, but there is no reply.

***

_Hal wasn’t kidding about the three course meal,_ Dominic thinks as he watches the large beef Wellington being placed on the table in front of him.

“Aww, man, that looks amazing,” Alex sighs next to him, and Dominic turns to his left to see her eyeing the golden pastry with a look of pure longing. She looks up when she notices his eyes on her. “Seriously, Blondie, you can’t tell me that that doesn’t make you even the slightest bit hungry.”

Dominic sighs. Truth is he is already more than full from the – admittedly very tasty, even in his current state – smoked salmon canapés that Hal served up as a starter. “It does look good, I have to admit,” he says, throwing a small smile up at Hal, who watches him with an expectant expression on his face that reminds him somewhat of a dog after fetching a stick.

“Dunno, but if ya ask me, I never understood why ya have to wrap a perfectly good steak up in all that pastry,” Tom throws in.

“Spoken like a true carnivore,” Hal mutters under his breath, and Dominic can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him.

“A wha’?” Tom asks, confusion written on his face, even as Alex looks back and forth between himself and Hal with a murder glare and bites out, “Guys!”

Hal joins in his laughter, and Tom looks more confused with every passing second, until Dominic finally takes pity on him and explains, “A meat eater.”

“Ah, right,” Tom says, a frown building on his face as his brain catches up with Hal’s meaning. “Yeah, very funny,” he adds after a moment. “You guys really are ones to talk when it comes to diet choices, huh.”

The last of the laughter dies in Dominic’s throat, and he clears it loudly, then lifts his glass and takes generous sip of wine, swirling the liquid around in his mouth to get rid of the unpleasant sandpaper feeling the bread from the canapés left behind, as well as the slight lump that formed in his throat at Tom’s words. He catches Hal’s eyes as the other watches him from across the table with a furrow in his brow.

“I know you won’t want to hear this, but perhaps you shouldn’t—”

Dominic raises his eyebrows. “What, Hal? Drink?”

“Drink alcohol,” Hal says, his voice suddenly very quiet as he looks down at the plate in front of him. “Just from personal experience, it might make it harder for you to… control yourself.”

“Well, I’m not exactly presented with a lot of opportunities,” Dominic replies, lifting the glass to his lips again almost defiantly to take another sip. The slight burning feeling he gets as the alcohol runs down his throat is so familiar, so soothing, that for just that short moment, it almost makes him feel human again.

“Right, so, are we all just going to sit here and stare at that incredible food, or are you guys actually going to eat some of it?” Alex speaks up in a too loud, too cheerful tone that nonetheless has the desired effect.

Tom nods and says, “Yeah, I guess I’ll give posh boy’s fancy food a go.”

Hal gives his friend a look that is half grateful and half exasperated as he picks up the knife and cuts a generous slice off of the beef Wellington and puts it on Tom’s plate. “You never know, Tom. You might love it.”

Tom gives him a sceptical look. “Doubt it.” He takes his plate back from Hal and helps himself to roast potatoes and vegetables, then looks at Hal pointedly as he puts a large piece of broccoli into his mouth, and Hal chuckles. Dominic feels a small smile tugging at his lips at the exchange.

“Dominic?” Hal asks, and Dominic turns away from Tom to find big hazel eyes looking at him with a silent question.

“Yes, of course I’ll try it,” he says, and Hal gives him a bright smile that lights up his face and makes him look younger than his years. Well, younger than his biological years, anyway. Dominic feels an almost compulsive need to look at him, to take in his handsome face and bright eyes that shine in a dazzling array of colours that he never used to notice when he was alive.

Hal serves his own food up last, then looks across the table at Alex. “Would you like to taste it?” he asks, and Dominic’s eyes widen, even as he vaguely remembers Hal making the same offer to her at breakfast yesterday. Hal _never_ let her do that before, and Dominic can’t help but wonder what brought on the sudden change of mind.

“You serious?” Alex asks, obviously as taken by surprise as he is.

Hal nods. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

Alex gives him a long look full of something that Dominic doesn’t quite know how to place, then finally nods and gets up, walking around the table to stand behind Hal and lifting her hands to his head.

“Hate to say it, but this really is good,” Tom speaks up then, and Hal chuckles again.

“Didn’t I tell you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause the almighty Hal’s always right ‘bout everythin’. How could I forget,” Tom says sarcastically, but there is a smile playing on his lips, prompting Hal to smile back at him.

“How indeed,” he says, and Tom huffs.

“Well, are you going to eat some of it, or would you like me to give you a head massage first?” Alex says, still standing behind Hal with her hands on his head.

Hal shudders. “No. Please. I mean, yes, here you go.” And he picks up his knife and fork, cuts off a generous piece and puts it into his mouth. He chews for a long time, and Dominic watches Alex’s face contort in an expression of pure bliss.

“Mmmh, that’s good,” she says, her eyes closed as she fully focuses on the taste sensation she is picking up from Hal. A sad smile forms on Dominic’s lips when she adds, “Shit, you guys have no idea how much I miss food.”

After what seems like several minutes, Hal swallows, and Alex lifts her hands off his head and opens her eyes, looking around the room as if coming out of a trance.

“Whoa, never done that with a vampire before,” she says faintly, shaking herself as she walks back to her own chair and sits down in front of her empty plate. “Feels different.”

Dominic nods. “It would do.” Then he takes a mouthful of his own food, and once again has to admit that Hal has really and truly outdone himself tonight. He chews and swallows, then washes the remains down with another large sip of wine, and he can start to feel his head going pleasantly fuzzy. Looking up at Hal, he sees him watching him again, and he gives him a soft smile and says, “It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it,” says Hal, returning his smile before he goes back to his own food.

Silence falls at the table then, as they all busy themselves with clearing their plates, and Dominic finds that in actual fact, the eating part is getting easier with each mouthful. What doesn’t get easier is the fact that despite, or possibly because of, the fuzz in his head brought on by his… third? fourth?… glass of wine, the invisible thread that pulls him towards Hal, that makes him want to touch, to kiss, to bite, to _taste_ , gets stronger and stronger, and he makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes on his plate so as not to pour oil on the smouldering fire inside of him.

“Shame I couldn’t invite Tasha over for dinner,” Tom says after a few minutes, and Dominic looks up to see Hal giving his friend a sharp look. “Wha?” Tom asks, and Hal nods over towards Dominic.

“It’s all right, Hal,” Dominic says with a small smile, even as the very mention of Tasha causes a hollow ache in his chest.

“Yeah, I told her that yer still contagious, like, although I’m not sure she believed me,” Tom admits, and Dominic shakes his head.

“Of course she didn’t. She’s smarter than that.” He lets out a deep sigh and reaches for his glass again. He takes a sip, lets the alcohol ground him before he continues, “While it was as good an excuse as any, I wasn’t expecting her to just accept it indefinitely.”

“Maybe ya should tell ‘er the truth then,” Tom says, his eyebrows drawn together as he looks at him. “Yer gonna have to eventually, mate.”

Another sharp pang courses through Dominic’s chest as he looks at Tom, remembering his last conversation with Tasha, the confession that she made to him. He clears his throat and is just about to reply when Hal gives Tom a meaningful look and says, “Yes, perhaps he should, Tom, but I don’t think this is really the time or place to discuss this, do you?”

Tom grumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Nothing ever is,” but thankfully doesn’t pursue the issue further.

“I still don’t think that you people down here actually know how to celebrate Hogmanay properly,” Alex pipes up then, clearly in an attempt to change the subject and lighten the mood, and Dominic gives her a grateful look.

“How so?” he asks.

“It’s just a much bigger thing back home,” Alex says, sounding slightly wistful. “Like, yeah, you’ve got the fireworks, and the drinking, and the food, but… I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Bet you guys have never even heard of first footing before.”

“What’s that?” Tom asks, and Dominic looks back at Alex with a curious expression on his face. Only Hal, of course, looks like he might have even the faintest idea what she is talking about.

Alex sighs. “See? That’s what I mean,” she says, then looks pointedly at Hal. “You ever live in Scotland?”

“A few years,” Hal says with a small nod, and Alex rolls her eyes.

“Why am I not surprised? But anyway, for those of you that aren’t a walking talking encyclopaedia,” she pauses, giving Hal another look, and he huffs, “first footing means that the first person who enters your house after midnight in the New Year is supposed to determine your luck for the coming year. If it’s a dark haired male, they’re supposed to bring good luck,” she explains.

Dominic can’t help the slight scoff that escapes him. “I’m not so sure about that,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes in Hal’s direction. Hal gives him a wide-eyed look in return.

Alex barks out a laugh and adds, “A fair haired man or a woman, on the other hand, are supposed to bring bad luck.” She frowns. “Guess that rules you and me out, Blondie.”

Dominic has to bite his tongue not to point out to her that he would most definitely bring bad luck to anyone who would open their door to him nowadays.

“Sounds like a stupid tradition to me,” Tom points out. “I mean, why would a woman bring ya bad luck?”

Alex shrugs. “Don’t know, Tom. ’S just the way it is.”

The conversation continues in a similar vein for the rest of the meal, and by the time Hal serves up the flame-torched creme brûlée, Dominic feels both oddly at home in this motley group of supernaturals he has come to call his friends, and full to the point of bursting from the sheer amounts of food his poor, unaccustomed vampire stomach has had to endure.

His head is fuzzy to the point that he struggles to fully follow Tom’s narrative of when he and McNair first came across George and Nina in the woods, with the latter asking questions about a werewolf pregnancy.

_If only you knew, Tom,_ he thinks distractedly, his thoughts wandering off once again to Natasha, just as Tom says, “‘Course, that was when I found out ‘bout me parents, and that McNair weren’t really me dad. Dunno why Nina did that, to be honest. Don’t matter in the end, does it? Won’t bring me parents back to life.”

“I guess she thought you deserved to know the truth, Tom,” Hal says, giving his friend a small smile, and Tom nods.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Then a thoughtful look crosses his face and he adds, “I still never been, ya know.”

“Been where?” Alex asks.

“Limehead, in Cornwall,” Tom says quietly. “’S where I’m from. Nina said.”

“Perhaps we can go there someday,” Hal suggests. Tom’s eyes light up.

“Ya mean we could go there together? In the car, like?”

“Ooh, road trip!” Alex crows, and Dominic can’t help but chuckle, even as his heart grows heavy. How can he possibly go on a road trip with them? As things stand, he can’t even leave the house.

“Well, have fun,” he says with a bittersweet smile, and Hal looks up sharply at him, meeting his eyes across the table.

“Oh no,” he replies, shaking his head. “You’d come as well.”

Dominic’s eyes grow wide. “Hal, I can’t—”

“And along those lines,” Hal continues as if he didn’t even hear him, glancing down at his watch before his eyes come back up to look at each of his friends in turn. Then he gets to his feet and swiftly makes his way into the kitchen, only to reappear a minute later with a chilled bottle of champagne and four glasses on a tray. He hands the tray to Alex with a smile and a “Would you mind?” before he comes to stand right next to Dominic’s chair and holds out his hand.

Dominic looks down at the outstretched hand, then back up at Hal’s face, and his forehead creases. “What…?” he starts, drifting off as the words don’t seem come out as quickly as he is thinking them.

Hal gives him an indulgent smile. “It’s almost midnight,” he says, as if that explains anything.

“So?” Dominic continues.

Hal lifts his eyebrows. “So you didn’t think we were just going to sit around the dinner table all night, did you?” he asks, then looks pointedly at his still outstretched hand, and with a frown and an apprehensive tightness in his chest, Dominic takes it, allows Hal to pull him to his feet.

It only takes the tiniest moment for the room to stop spinning as he stands up, and he absentmindedly wonders if his vampire physiology helps to somewhat counteract his obvious inebriation. Hal’s hand in his own is still warm, he notices, although not as warm as it was that first time, when, to him at least, he felt almost… alive. He doesn’t however get the chance to really think about what might be causing the difference, as Hal pulls him along towards the kitchen, through the swinging doors, and in the direction of…

“No,” he says weakly, tugging at Hal’s hand to make him stop.

Hal turns around to him. “Dominic,” he just says, a serious expression on his face.

Dominic shakes his head. “No, Hal,” he says, panic creeping into his voice. How can Hal possibly think that this is a good idea?

“You’re going to be all right,” Hal says with a soft smile, lifting his free hand to lightly brush along the side of Dominic’s face.

He swallows. “No, I… I won’t be. I haven’t been out there since… and tonight… there’s going to be so many people…”

“Not in our back garden,” Hal says, his smile growing.

“You’d hope,” Alex agrees as she comes through the doors, still carrying the tray Hal gave her.

Dominic shakes his head again. “But what if I make a run for it?” he asks, now looking back and forth between Hal, Alex, and Tom, who has just entered the room as well, carrying what looks like an assortment of fireworks. Dominic’s eyes linger on the brightly coloured boxes for a moment before he brings them back up to Hal. “What if I… I don’t know, pick up a scent and… and lose control…”

Hal chuckles. “No offence, but I’m faster and stronger than you. I can keep you in check if I need to.”

Dominic frowns. “Are you sure?” he asks, and Hal nods.

“Perfectly sure.”

“Because you’re older than me?” Dominic continues.

“That helps, yes,” Hal confirms. “Of course, you being the offspring of an Old One already makes you more powerful than most, but—”

“Offspring?” Alex cuts in. “Now that’s just a tad incestuous, don’t you think?”

Hal raises his eyebrows at her. “Not really, no,” he says drily, then pulls on Dominic’s hand again, and Dominic almost doesn’t notice that he is back in motion until the back door suddenly swings open before him, and for the first time in more than two weeks, he can smell the clean, fresh winter air coming in from outside. Hal steps over the threshold, never letting go of his hand, and Dominic walks up to the door, stopping just inside, like he is waiting for an invitation. Hal meets his wide, fearful eyes with his own hazel ones, full of a quiet confidence. “Come on, Blondie,” he says gently, and before he knows it, Dominic lifts one foot over the threshold, then the other one, and follows Hal onto the small patio.

He braces himself, holds his breath, squeezes his eyes tightly shut, and he doesn’t know exactly how much time has passed in that way when suddenly, a loud banging noise right next to him makes him jump, and his eyes fly open to take in Alex, popping the cork on the champagne bottle, making the liquid spill over and drip onto the floor between them.

Alex grins widely. “I always wanted to do that.”

“As long as you leave any at all in there for us to drink,” Hal says with an eye roll, and Alex huffs.

“You just don’t do fun, do you?” she throws back at Hal as she starts to pour out the remaining champagne into the four waiting glasses.

“Not with a 1959 vintage, Alex,” Hal counters, and Alex’s eyes widen.

“Okay, er… sorry, I guess?” she says sheepishly.

Hal shakes his head with a small, exasperated chuckle, but takes the glass Alex holds out to him nonetheless, and Dominic follows suit, holding onto the cold, smooth glass stem like a lifeline as he slowly lets his eyes wander around the secluded back garden and lets out a breath of relief when he realises that there isn’t another soul in sight.

“See?” Hal whispers softly into his ear. “I told you you would be all right.”

Dominic nods jerkily, not quite meeting Hal’s eyes as his gaze keeps wandering around the garden, and then, for a second time in as many minutes it seems, he almost jumps out of his skin when all of a sudden the air is filled by a loud whistling noise, followed seconds later by an even louder explosion and a bright burst of colour that lights up the sky above them.

“Happy New Year guys!” Alex squeals, and before he knows it, she has thrown her arms around him and is hugging him tightly to her, and it’s the strangest of feelings, but it’s not wholly unpleasant, and he awkwardly brings his hands up to hug her back briefly before pulling away.

“Happy New Year, Alex,” he says with a smile, and she returns it with a bright one of her own. Then she turns away from him and towards Hal, giving him an even tighter hug, and Dominic finds himself faced with Tom.

“Happy New Year, Tom,” he says, opting for a handshake, and the werewolf nods at him with a small smile.

“Happy New Year,” he replies. “You know, I’m actually kinda startin’ to like ya.”

Dominic laughs loudly. “I’m not sure exactly what I’ve done recently to deserve that, but thank you, Tom. The feeling is mutual.”

Tom gives him another nod before he, too, turns away, and suddenly Hal is standing in front of him, looking utterly beautiful in the light of the dozens of fireworks going off all around them, red and green and blue and white, and Dominic brings his glass up to his lips, taking a tentative sip of the 1959 vintage champagne, for courage, he tells himself. And then Hal reaches up and takes the glass out of his hand, carefully placing it down next to his own on the patio table. Then he turns around to him again, bright hazel eyes piercing into his own as his hands come up to frame Dominic’s face, to tilt his head up before he finally closes the distance and gently presses his lips to Dominic’s own.

Dominic lets out a quiet sigh at the contact, those soft lips on his own, and everything about it just feels so _right_ that for one brief, blissful moment, he actually forgets the fact that he is no longer alive, that he is a vampire, a monster, and for that one moment, none of that matters.

“Happy New Year,” he whispers against Hal’s lips.

Hal’s hands are still cradling his head, and he pulls away just far enough that he is able to look into Dominic’s eyes, smiles and says, “Happy Birthday.”

Dominic’s breath catches in his throat. “Hal, I… I hadn’t even…”

“Good thing I remembered then, isn’t it?” Hal says, his smile widening, and a laugh bursts forth from Dominic’s lips.

“Yes,” he agrees, too shell-shocked to say anything else.

“Wait, hold on, it’s your birthday?” Alex pipes up somewhere behind him, and Dominic turns around to her with a nod.

“I suppose it is,” he says, a small frown finding its way onto his face. “Although, thinking about it, perhaps I shouldn’t celebrate this one anym—”

“Dominic,” Hal cuts in. “The only reason I don’t celebrate mine is because I can’t remember it. It’s your birthday, it always will be. That doesn’t change just because of… what you are.”

Dominic bites his lip. “But it’s not like I’m actually getting any older anymore, is it?”

Hal raises his eyebrows. “Neither have I for the last five hundred years, didn’t stop you from wanting to celebrate mine.”

Dominic mulls that over for a long moment, then gives a small nod and says, “You’re right.”

The next moment, he once again finds himself with an armful of Alex, this time saying, “Happy Birthday, Blondie,” before she pulls away and gives him a calculating look. “How old are you, anyway?”

Dominic barks out a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah, I would, actually,” counters Alex.

“Well, to be honest, Alex,” Dominic replies with a teasing smile, “given the situation, I don’t really think that kind of thing matters anymore, so I guess you’re out of luck.”

Alex scoffs and shakes her head, but doesn’t get to reply as in that moment, Tom appears next to her, reaching out to tentatively clasp Dominic’s shoulder. “Happy Birthday, mate,” he says, then gives Hal a sideways glance and adds, “He never told me nowt, otherwise I woulda got ya a present or summat.” He shrugs. “Got the fireworks, I guess.”

Dominic smiles, “Don’t worry, Tom. I wasn’t expecting—”

“I suppose that’s my cue, though,” Hal says loudly, and Dominic turns back towards him with a curious look in his eyes.

“Your cue?”

Hal nods, then looks down as if suddenly self-conscious, while his right hand reaches into his pocket. “I… got you something,” he says, and Dominic feels a sudden tightness spread across his chest, which he recognises a moment later as fear. The other Hal’s voice, uttering those very same words in his dream night after night, echoes in his head, and he swallows hard. Hal lifts wide eyes up to him and says, “No, no, nothing like that.” He looks back down at his closed fist, hovering awkwardly in the space between them, and there is a crease appearing in his brow.

“Hal?” Dominic prompts, making Hal’s eyes flick up to him for a split second before he looks back down at his hand again.

“Alex… told me about what happened with your cross,” Hal starts, quietly, hesitantly. “I’m sorry about that. I know it was a gift from your grandmother, and I know how much it meant to you… _means_ to you.” He stops, clears his throat. “I would like you to have this instead,” he continues, and his hand opens to reveal a circular pendant on a silver chain, gleaming brightly in the ever changing lighting of the New Year’s sky. It is bigger than Dominic’s cross, but intricately crafted to show a dragon-like creature devouring it’s own tail. “It’s an ouroboros,” Hal explains. “It’s a symbol for—”

“Death and rebirth,” Dominic finishes, then lets out a breathy chuckle. “It’s appropriate I guess.”

He feels Hal’s eyes on him, and looks up to meet them with his own. “It also symbolises unity, and eternity,” Hal continues. “It was given to me…” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat before continuing, “It was given to me by someone who was very important to me at the time.”

“It looks ancient,” Dominic says, running a hesitant finger across the pendant.

Hal huffs out a laugh. “Thanks.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Hal says, giving him a soft smile, and Dominic can’t help but smile back. “Anyway, I… I would like you to have it.”

Dominic stares at the pendant in Hal’s outstretched hand for a long moment, before his eyes come back up to Hal, and his brow furrows. “Hal, are you sure?”

Hal nods. “Absolutely sure.”

“But… you said someone gave this to you…”

“A long time ago,” Hal says, then lifts the pendant up by the chain and holds it out towards Dominic. “And now, I would like you to have it. Please.”

Dominic swallows down the lump forming in his throat, nods and says, “Thank you.”

Hal just smiles at him in reply, then lifts the pendant up and fastens the chain around Dominic’s neck. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper, and they are standing so very close suddenly, Dominic realises, and he leans in the rest of the way until their lips meet again. Hal’s lips are so soft, so gentle on his own, and the kiss is long and slow and absolutely wonderful. And then Dominic can feel the very tip of a wet, probing tongue against his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to let Hal in, meeting his exploring tongue with his own, and there are fingers carding through his hair, and still, somewhere far, far away, he is aware of explosions in the air, and bright balls of light that permeate his closed eyelids.

Then, Alex’s voice invades his consciousness, “Jesus, guys, get a room.”

Hal pulls away from him, and Dominic lets out a deep sigh at the loss of contact, eyes opening to see Hal smiling brightly as he says, “That can be arranged.” And Hal’s hand takes hold of his once again, pulling him along, back into the kitchen, through the hallway, and up the stairs. His legs feel heavy and slow, and he fleetingly thinks that perhaps the alcohol has finally caught up with him, but he continues to set one foot in front of the other and finally makes it up the flight of stairs, and further down the hallway, into Hal’s… into _their_ room.

Hal’s hands are on his shirt buttons, slowly, hesitantly, and he gives Hal a small nod to signal to him to continue. Hal wordlessly opens his shirt, then pushes it off his shoulders, before his hands run back up his arms and down the front of his chest, and Dominic gasps loudly as Hal’s fingers lightly brush over his nipples. His own clumsy fingers come up in an attempt to open Hal’s shirt, and he makes it about halfway down before Hal takes pity on him and quickly discards it himself.

Everything happens in a blur after that, and the next thing he knows is they somehow made it to the bed, and Hal is leaning over him, kissing him, hands exploring his chest, his sides, his shoulders, his arms, then back down his chest and… when did he lose his trousers? He is only in his boxers, Dominic realises, and a quick look down confirms that Hal is, as well. Hal’s hand is moving across the waistband of his boxers now, continuing on its journey south. Dominic can feel a knot of arousal in the centre of his stomach, shooting straight into his groin, and he lets out a quiet, broken moan.

Then Hal’s hand brushes feather-lightly over the growing bulge in his boxers, and he can feel the pressure building in his gums, only for a second, before his fangs break through. His eyes fly open, wide and terrified, and he gasps out, “Hal, stop.”

Hal’s hand halts immediately, and he pulls back to look into Dominic’s eyes. “Too much?” he asks.

Dominic nods, turning his head away from Hal, towards the window. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, the tell-tale feeling of fullness in his mouth suddenly making him feel sick.

“Don’t be,” Hal says, just as quietly, and he climbs off of Dominic and lays down next to him on the bed, one hand tentatively snaking around his waist. “Is this okay?” he asks, and Dominic nods, but keeps his head firmly turned away from him. “Dominic?” Hal asks after a moment.

“Hmm?” Dominic replies, eyes fixed on the sky outside the window, working hard to try and make those godawful fangs retract.

“Happy Birthday.”

And despite everything, Dominic smiles, one hand coming up to lightly run over the new pendant lying against his naked chest. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Hal’s body is curled against him, warm and comforting, and finally he feels his fangs retract, as they lie together in silence, watching the last of the fireworks going off in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, Hal’s Ouroboros pendant is inspired by [this image](https://secretdiaryofafanficwriter.tumblr.com/post/186165341664/nemfrog-a-dragon-that-swallows-its).


	10. First Footing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, as always :)
> 
> So this chapter starts with even more fluff, for which I am not in the slightest bit sorry, because... well, we know it can never last, right?

You're standing in the doorway  
With a look I used to know  
With all the best intentions  
Somehow, our cover's blown  
We're trapped inside this room  
With no window or rear view  
And now you're backing away from me  
Well, what can I do?

\- Bloc Party, “Different Drugs”

 

Dominic doesn't actually remember falling asleep. He doesn't remember an awful lot from last night at all, except for vague impressions of fireworks and kisses in the cold night air. A pleasant, warm tingle spreads through his cold body, and he sighs.

“Happy Birthday,” a sleepy voice mutters next to him. He isn't sure what it is about those words, Dominic muses, but they seem to never fail to make him smile. This time is no exception.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice slightly croaky as he pushes the air through his sore, dry throat.

“You're hungover,” Hal observes with a smile in his voice, and Dominic huffs.

The motion aggravates his throat even further, making him groan. “Maybe. A little.” He turns onto his side, facing Hal, who looks back at him through sleepy eyes. “Isn't that the way you're supposed to feel on New Year’s Day?”

Hal chuckles. “Yeah, you see, I never understood that. It's the first day of the new year, and most people spend it either asleep or in a state of acute withdrawal.”

Dominic chuckles. “I suppose it's all about what came before it,” he says, then furrows his brow at Hal and adds, “I'm sure the other one would understand.”

Hal’s face goes hard at his words, and he doesn't reply for a long time. When he does, his voice is quiet and hesitant. “Do you miss him being here?”

Dominic swallows. How can he possibly answer that question? “Hal…” he begins.

“Just be honest with me, please.”

Dominic sighs deeply and says, “Yes and no.” Hal frowns at him, and he explains, “Yes, I guess I do, in a way, because he is part of you and… kind of… part of this relationship as well.” Hal shakes his head and opens his mouth to argue, so he quickly continues, “But on the other hand, I'm also afraid of… what he might say and… do… to me, if he was here. What he might try to _make me_ do.”

Hal nods and lifts a hand to Dominic's face, fingers brushing across his cheek. “I won't let him,” he says emphatically. “You're free to make your own decisions, Dominic, and if you have decided that you don't want to be like him, he will have to learn to live with that.”

Dominic thinks about that for a long moment, before the thought is infiltrated by a somewhat hazy memory of something Hal said last night. It didn't seem to be a big deal at the time, but then he _was_ rather drunk last night. Now, however, it suddenly feels painfully significant.

“Hal?” he asks, hesitantly, a small frown on his face.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Hal replies with a smile. “It's your birthday, you can do anything you want.”

Dominic's frown deepens as a dark thought invades his mind. “Yeah, let's not go there,” he says with a strained little smile, and Hal chuckles quietly. Then Dominic sobers up and adds, “But anyway, I was going to ask you about… well…” He drifts off and takes a deep breath. “This…” he starts again, gesturing back and forth between himself and Hal. “The way I can’t help but feel… drawn to you… ever since I woke up… is this…?”

“Yes,” says Hal.

Dominic huffs. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were wondering whether this is something to do with the fact that I’m the one who recruited you, and the answer is ‘yes’. There is a… special bond, of sorts, between a vampire and their maker,” Hal explains, and Dominic's frown, if possible, deepens even more.

“That does sound… awfully incestuous,” he says, echoing Alex's words from last night.

Hal laughs. “I suppose it is a bit,” he admits. “If you want to see it that way.”

“It’s not that I _want_ to, exactly,” Dominic mutters, and Hal laughs again.

Then he leans in and gives Dominic a soft peck on the lips. “You’ll get used to it.”

Dominic sighs. “Where have I heard that before? ‘That awful, gnawing hunger at the pit of your stomach? You’ll get used to it. Those out of control, volatile emotions? You’ll get used to them. The fact that you want to jump your vampire sire’s bones? Don’t worry at all, you’ll get used to it’.” Hal laughs harder now, and Dominic narrows his eyes at him. “Stop it, Hal. This is serious,” he complains, but despite his words, the corners of his own mouth lift as he can’t help but be infected by the other’s laughter.

“Mmmh, I know,” Hal says, still chuckling as he leans in to once again quickly touch his lips to Dominic’s. “It’s all very serious business. But the fact still stands that you want to jump my bones.”

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Dominic asks, trying to sound accusing despite not being able to stop himself from smiling. 

Hal gives him an innocent look. “I’m not sure what you are trying to imply, but that surely was the last thing on my mind when I recruited you.”

“Why do I find it difficult to believe that?” Dominic asks with a huff. 

Hal smiles and lifts a hand up to lightly run his index finger down the centre of Dominic’s exposed chest. “Because you, my dear, have a one-track mind.”

Dominic’s breath hitches at the touch, and he does his best not to react in any more visible way. “I was right though, wasn’t I?” he asks, only sounding the slightest bit breathless. Hal, however, gives him a knowing, teasing smile, as his hand comes back up to where the new pendant is lying against Dominic’s skin, and he traces the chain up and around, until his hand comes to rest against the nape of Dominic’s neck, his fingers idly stroking through the short blond hair.

“That I knew it would happen?” Hal asks, and Dominic nods. “Yes, of course I did. I’m… not exactly new to all of this. I knew that our bond would… most likely manifest in this way.”

Dominic’s brow creases. “So it doesn’t always?”

“No,” says Hal, his hand at the nape of Dominic’s neck proving very distracting indeed. Dominic feels a shiver running through him, and lets out a soft sigh, and Hal gives him another smile before he continues, “It isn’t always like this. For some, it really is more of a mentor–student relationship, as it was for me with my maker, for instance.”

“You never talk about him much,” Dominic says. “Dariusz, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hal replies with a small nod. “I… wasn’t with him for very long, but he did teach me a lot of things… well, I should say he taught _him_ a lot of things, as he was quite clearly the one in the driving seat at the time. It’s… never mind.”

“It’s all right,” Dominic says quickly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” Hal smiles at him, but this time, it’s a sad, somewhat melancholic smile as he obviously remembers events from times long past. Then he clears his throat and says, “As I said, never mind that now. What I was saying before was that, sometimes… especially if you had romantic or sexual feelings for the other person before… the bond can turn into… well, this.” Hal’s hand comes around to the side of Dominic’s face then, and his thumb lightly brushes across his bottom lip. Dominic’s eyes flutter closed almost immediately, and another sigh escapes his lips. “And actually,” Hal continues, his fingers caressing Dominic’s jaw and neck and finally coming to lie in the sensitive spot at the base of his throat, between his collarbones, “it doesn’t look to me like you mind all that much.” And he leans in and kisses Dominic again, a slower, more lingering kiss this time, before he pulls away and adds, “Am I right?”

Dominic swallows thickly, feeling Hal’s fingers still resting against the very base of his throat. Then he opens his eyes, and there is a playful glint in them as he says, “Yes, Daddy.”

Hal barks out a surprised laugh before, a split second later, his face contorts in a slightly pained grimace and he says, “No, please, let’s… not do that.”

Dominic chuckles quietly and says, “Don’t worry, I… don’t really feel all that comfortable with that myself.”

“Of course,” Hal replies with a nod and a completely straight face. “I realise you’ve got daddy issues.”

Dominic pulls further away from him on the bed and he frowns. “I _do not_ have ‘daddy issues’.”

Hal lifts his eyebrows at him. “I think someone’s in denial.”

“What do you mean, I have ‘daddy issues’?”

“Dominic,” Hal says with a chuckle, then shifts on the bed to close the gap between them that Dominic created. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Well,” Dominic replies, pulling away once again and giving Hal a piercing look, “be that as it may, Hal. As you so rightly pointed out, today is my birthday, and that means I can do whatever I want. And right now, I want a shower, a large glass of orange juice, and some cereal.” Then he gets out of bed in one fluid motion, only halting a fraction of a second to fight down a sudden wave of nausea brought on by the movement. Then he walks over to their joint wardrobe and pulls out a fresh set of t-shirt and jogging bottoms, which have slowly started to replace the grey suits.

“Cereal?” Hal says behind him, and he turns around, away from the empty mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door, and sees Hal frowning at him. 

“It’s easier than toast,” he says matter-of-factly, before leaving the room in the direction of the bathroom.

***

A shower, two large glasses of orange juice, and half a bowl of Rice Krispies later, Dominic finds himself curled up on the sofa in the living room with Hal, watching a ridiculous film involving a cartoon rabbit being accused of having committed murder. 

“I think I remember watching bits of this when I was a kid,” he muses out loud, prompting a chuckle from Hal.

“I remember watching it with Leo and Pearl,” he admits, and Dominic turns around to him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Hal nods. “It was quite groundbreaking at the time, actually. I remember Pearl being over the moon about it.”

Dominic laughs. “I met them, you know. Leo and Pearl. Told them some ridiculous story about time travel, and that you were in danger and I had to save you…” His voice goes quiet when he adds, “Well, at least that last part was true.”

Hal smiles softly at him. “I bet Leo believed you about the time travel. He was always a sucker for things like that.”

“He was more open to the idea than Pearl was, for sure,” Dominic confirms with a smile of his own. “Started talking about Doctor Who.”

Hal groans. “He was obsessed with that show. Couldn’t get enough of it. Made Pearl and I sit through every single episode, every Saturday, for twenty-six years. Well, except for those days during the winter when the moon came up early and… well. To be honest, most of the time, Pearl and I would watch it anyway, if only to give us something to focus on other than the howling wolf in the next room, and so we could relay it back to him at breakfast the next morning.”

That melancholic smile is back on Hal's face, and Dominic once again feels the pull to move in closer, to press his lips to that smile. And it’s his birthday, so he does. Hal’s lips move against his own, slowly, gently, and Dominic can feel the smile growing and spreading, infecting his own lips to do the same. 

“Mmmh, I love you,” Hal whispers against his mouth. Dominic freezes for a moment, unsure only of whether he is ready to say it back, because he knows by now that it is most definitely still the truth. 

For a long, silent moment, his lips hover so close to Hal's that they are basically breathing the same air, and Dominic has to make a conscious effort not to allow himself to get carried away by the faintest, barely there remnant of that divine scent on Hal’s breath, underneath all the minty freshness of recently brushed teeth. And in that moment he decides that no, he isn't ready, that saying the words would feel too much like forgiveness. So instead, he moves in and once again brushes his lips against Hal's.

Hal is still smiling, but somehow, maybe through their _bond_ , Dominic muses, he can feel the disappointment coming off of him, and he deepens the kiss in an attempt to take Hal’s mind off of it. It seems to be working, as Hal tangibly relaxes against him, one hand once again playing with Dominic’s hair while the other hitches up the hem of his t-shirt the tiniest bit, fingertips brushing against the small sliver of newly exposed skin on Dominic's stomach. Yes, it is definitely working, until—

“Whatcha guys watching?” Alex’s voice rings out behind the sofa, and Dominic tries to pull away, but Hal's hand on the back of his head is insistent, holding him in place, as if he is afraid to let the moment go. There is a small huff coming from Alex. “Or should I ask, what are you pretending to watch as an excuse for having a snogging sesh on the sofa?”

Hal chuckles against Dominic's mouth then, the air current tickling his lips, before he finally pulls back and turns around to face Alex. Dominic follows Hal’s gaze, suddenly hyperaware of his kiss-swollen lips and ruffled hair.

“Having fun?” Alex asks, eyebrows raised as she looks back and forth between them.

“Yes, thanks,” Dominic answers promptly, and Hal laughs again.

“Well, that's good, seeing as it's your birthday and all,” Alex says dryly, before she walks around the back of the sofa and flops down on the corner sofa, glancing over towards the TV. “So, what _are_ you pretending to watch as an excuse for a snogging sesh?”

“ _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ ,” Dominic supplies, after searching his mind for a moment for the actual title of the film.

“Ooh, I remember watching this with my little brothers,” Alex says excitedly, settling down more comfortably on the cream coloured sofa. Then, clearly feeling both of their eyes on her, she looks over towards them and adds, “Don't mind me, guys, I'll just be watching the telly.”

Hal actually leans back in for another kiss, but Dominic quickly moves back, a small frown growing on his face. 

“No, Hal, sorry, I'm not doing this in front of an audience,” he says quietly, giving Hal an apologetic look. 

Hal just smiles at him for a moment before he leans in one more time, if only to press a small kiss into Dominic’s ruffled up hair. His hand moves from its hold on the back of Dominic's head to loosely lie across his shoulders instead, and Dominic relaxes.

His eyes wander back towards the TV, where Roger and the detective are engaged in an argument about something, and he settles back on the sofa and just lets himself enjoy Hal’s closeness in a way that he hasn’t allowed himself since he woke up in the cellar. Silence falls as all three of them seem more or less engrossed in the film, and probably their own personal memories of where and how and in whose company they first watched it. Janine, in his case, he remembers, on one of the rare evenings when his father was out late and she would let him stay up and watch the TV until he fell asleep.

The silence, however, doesn’t last, and neither does the peace that comes with it, when, out of the blue, Dominic’s senses are assaulted by three things. 

One, there is a loud knock on the front door. Dominic’s head snaps up as his eyes inevitably dart over in the direction of the hallway.

Two, the knocking is accompanied by a quieter, rhythmic thumping sound that he vaguely remembers having heard before, and it makes every muscle in his body tense up, ready to spring when the opportunity arises.

And three… there is the most amazing, exhilarating, alluring smell in the air. It makes his mouth water and his throat go dry and his stomach feel painfully empty despite his recent breakfast, and he knows, he just _knows_ that he has to get closer to it, that he has to find its source and—

“Hello?” a voice calls from outside, accompanied by more knocking, and he knows he recognises the voice, but his brain is too preoccupied right now to do anything but breathe, breathe in that wonderful scent, and he jumps up, tries to leap over the back of the sofa, but there is something holding him back, hands gripping him so hard it is painful. “Hello? Tom? Dominic?” the voice calls again, and after a short pause, “Hal?… Alex?”

“What do we do?” another voice says, closer, and that one he does recognise. His head whips around in Alex’s direction, and he sees her staring at him with wide eyes. Why is she frightened?

“We need to—” a third voice – _Hal_ – starts, but never gets to finish as in that moment, there are footsteps thundering down the stairs, and the door is thrown open. “Ya can’t be here, Tasha,” a new voice says. Tom, his brain supplies him, and then, suddenly, it all makes sense.

Tasha. _Tasha._ She’s here. She can’t be—

“She can’t be here,” someone says, a raw, hoarse, strained voice, and with a start he realises that it is his own. 

“I agree,” Hal speaks up next to him, his hands still firmly closed around Dominic’s biceps, holding him in place, but the quality of his voice is calm, soothing, like he is talking to a feral, wounded animal. 

“No, forget it, Tom, I’m not taking your bullshit anymore!” Tasha snaps, and something about it, about the sheer _familiarity_ of it, makes that wild, uncontrollable part in Dominic retreat, gives him some control back, and he swallows thickly before holding his breath.

“Good, you’re doing well,” Hal whispers in his ear. “Relax, okay? She’s a friend.”

“Tasha, really, it’s not a good idea, he’s still—”

“Let me through, Tom, I’m not going to leave until I’ve seen him,” Tasha insists, and a hand comes into view, pushing against Tom’s chest and not giving him any choice but to step back from the door. “Glandular fever isn’t even that contagious,” Tasha continues as she weasels her way past Tom and steps through into the living room, and Dominic feels an almost unbearable lump forming in his throat as he lays eyes on her, wearing a heavy winter parka over an oversized knitted jumper and a pair of skinny jeans, and carrying what looks like a brightly decorated birthday cake. “I’ve read about it, it’s—” She freezes in place, her eyes almost bulging out of her face as she looks over in the direction of the sofa. 

No one says anything for what seems like a small eternity, and the silence is stifling. Dominic puts all his energy into his efforts to hold his breath, to remain calm, to focus on Tasha, the girl he regards as his family, rather than follow his body’s instinct to leap, to tear, to taste, and the fight becomes harder by the second.

“Tasha,” Hal says eventually, still standing behind him, his hands never ceasing their death grip on both of his arms.

“What the hell is going on, Hal?” she asks, and Dominic is shocked to see that she is not even looking at him anymore, but her eyes are fixed on Hal with an expression of pure, unrestrained loathing written on her face. “What have you done to him?”

And Dominic closes his eyes, takes in the smallest breath he thinks he can get away with, but even that almost pushes him over the edge.

 _Get a grip,_ he tells himself. _This is Tasha. You don’t want to hurt her._

And he opens his eyes, and he opens his mouth, and he croaks, “Tasha.”

And still she doesn’t look at him. “What, Hal? Talk to me.”

Hal sighs. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tasha, I’m a little bit busy right now,” he says, and Dominic follows Tasha’s eyes to where Hal is restraining him.

“Doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to speak,” Tasha bites out. “Does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Hal says quietly, but Dominic can clearly hear the tension creeping into his voice.

He takes another small, measured breath, and the scent is now filling the room, it is everywhere around him, and it takes all his willpower to stay put, to once again open his mouth, ignore his painful, parched throat, and say, “Tasha, please.”

“Well, talk to me, then, coward,” Tasha says to Hal, completely ignoring him, and somehow, that is the thing that finally pushes him over the edge, and he sees the room grow brighter and he feels the itching in his gums before his fangs break through.

And with everything he has got left of himself, of the part of him that has not been consumed by the monster, he rasps out, “I need to go,” before he pulls with all his might against Hal’s steel grip, pulls himself free and sprints across the living room, into the hallway and down the flight of stairs, and he only allows himself to stop, to breathe, when the heavy steel door has fallen shut behind him.

***

Natasha’s head is reeling, her brain struggling to make sense of what she has just seen. All three inhabitants of the room stare in the direction that Dominic just fled in. Because flee he did, and at a speed that she has never seen anyone moving at before. 

“Yes, thank you Alex,” Hal says then, and Natasha whirls around to him with a questioning look in her eyes. “She said she is going to lock the cellar door,” Hal elaborates, but somehow, that statement doesn’t make any more sense than anything else she has seen or heard so far today. 

To top it all off, the baby is pushing up against her stomach, and she can feel a wave of nausea come on, even as her head feels like it is spinning, and there are dark dots starting to dance at the periphery of her vision, moving inwards.

“Whoa, Tasha, yer white as a sheet,” Tom says, and she can feel his strong arms coming around her just in time before she actually collapses to the floor. Now how embarrassing would that have been?

“Yeah, I… I think maybe I should sit down,” she says faintly, and Tom guides her towards one of the chairs at the table by the window. As soon as she sits, her vision returns to normal, and she looks up at a concerned looking Tom. 

“You all righ’?” he asks, eyebrows drawn together as he sits down next to her.

She tries a small smile, which ends up even thinner than she had expected. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine, Tom,” she says.

Tom huffs. “Yeah, right. Sure ya are. Like, it’s all right for ya to be upset ‘bout—”

“That’s… not what I was talking about,” Natasha jumps in, because _that_ is quite honestly the last thing she wants to think about right now. “I just… I still get this nausea, and the dizzy spells, you know. But it’s getting better.” She gives him a slightly bigger smile, and he sighs.

“Have ya not seen a doctor yet ‘bout this, Tasha?”

“I—”

“I don’t think it’s anything to do with being sick, though, is it, Tasha?” Hal says then, and she looks up to see him standing on the other side of the table, giving her a knowing look.

The sight of him standing there, looking so smug and all-knowing, fills her with a fresh wave of such utter rage that she has to ball her hands into tight fists to keep herself from jumping up and punching him in the face. God knows he deserves a lot more than that. Instead, she glares across the table at him and says, “I don’t know what you mean, _Hal_. But I see that you have finally decided to talk to me, so you better give me some answers to my questions.”

***

“You all right, Blondie?” Alex asks from where she is standing in the corner by the door. 

He doesn’t even look up from where he stands, his back pressed against the wall, his chest heaving and his eyes focused on a nondescript point on the floor in front of him.

“Do I look all right?” he scoffs, and then he lifts black eyes to look straight into hers, seeing her own eyes widen almost imperceptibly.

“No,” she says quietly. 

He squeezes his eyes shut once again, willing them to get back to normal, but just like his fangs, they don’t seem to obey him terribly well. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he thinks he can hear the faint rustle of Alex shaking her head.

“You don’t have to apologise to me,” she says. He lets out a hoarse, humourless laugh, and she adds, “What I mean to say is, you don’t have to apologise to anyone. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Dominic shakes his head, blinks his eyes open, finds that they are still black, and quickly closes them again. “It’s not about what I did, Alex. It’s about what I _wanted_ to do.”

“No,” she argues, and he almost automatically opens his eyes again to look at her. They are still black, but he keeps them trained on her all the same. “It’s about what you _didn’t_ do,” she continues. “What you stopped yourself from doing. That’s what really matters.”

He sighs. “Yes, but—”

“No, Dominic,” Alex cuts in, sounding more and more impatient. “Tasha is still alive and well up there, because of what you did. Because you brought yourself down here, to safety, rather than… the other thing.”

Dominic feels another lump forming in his throat as he hears her say Tasha’s name. “She didn’t even look at me, Alex,” he says quietly. “She didn’t even so much as acknowledge me. It’s like… I wasn’t even there.”

Alex is quiet for a moment after that, and Dominic once again brings his eyes up to look at her. She looks back at him with a crease in her brow, then gives him a small smile and says, “I’m sure she’ll come round. You’re too important to her for her to just… you know.”

“She cut me out of her life once before,” Dominic says flatly. “I have complete faith in her to be able to do it again, and to stick with it this time.”

“I don’t think so,” says Alex.

Dominic shakes his head and takes a deep breath, about to reply when there is a careful knock on the door.

“Dominic?” Hal’s voice comes through the heavy steel door, and Dominic is amazed at the effect just hearing that voice has on his fraying nerves. 

He lets out a long, ragged breath and says, “Come in, Hal.” The _Please, I need you here_ part isn’t spoken out loud, but he is sure that Hal knows it anyway.

The locking mechanism is undone, and within a few seconds, the heavy door opens, and Hal steps into the small room. When he sees Dominic’s jet-black eyes, he gives him a small, sympathetic smile and says, “That bad, huh?”

Dominic swallows and nods. Hal doesn’t say anything more, but moves across the small room and comes to a halt right in front of him, both hands cradling his face and touching his forehead to Dominic’s. 

“You’re all right,” he whispers. “You did great up there. Just keep reminding yourself who she is, and that you care about her. Her and… the baby.”

“The baby?” Alex pipes up, and Hal turns away from him to face her. Dominic follows his gaze to see Alex’s eyes darting back and forth between them with a disbelieving look on her face. “Natasha’s pregnant?” she asks. “And you _knew_?”

Hal nods, and Dominic frowns. “How did you know?”

Hal turns back around to him with a small, strained half-smile. “I’ve known for a while. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with… other things earlier, you would have been able to tell as well.” At Dominic’s blank expression, he adds, “Two heartbeats.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “Ah.”

Hal nods. “Yes. But anyway, that’s not… what we should be talking about right now,” he says, just as Alex asks, “Does Tom know?”

Dominic shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t. And…” he drifts off, unsure of how to say what he wants to say next. “And it would be better if he didn’t, for now, so… please don’t say anything.” He looks back and forth between Hal and Alex. “Either of you.”

Hal clears his throat. “I think it may be a little bit too late for that,” he confesses, but quickly follows it up with, “I don’t think he cottoned on though.”

“That’s good,” Dominic says, nodding.

“Hey, your eyes are back to normal,” Alex points out then, and Dominic frowns. He didn’t even notice it when it happened, but now he focuses on it, he can definitely tell that she is telling the truth. 

“So they are,” he says, then turns back to Hal. “So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

Hal swallows, solemn hazel eyes gazing straight into his own once again blue ones, and says, “She wants to talk to you.”

***

Hal watches Natasha across the table, takes in her hard eyes and furrowed brow, and he sighs and pulls the remaining chair away from the table. “Ask away.”

Natasha, in true Natasha fashion, doesn’t beat around the bush. “What happened to Dominic?” she asks, before he has even fully sat down. 

Hal settles into his seat, his eyes fixed on the table top. “He’s a vampire,” he says quietly, even though he is fairly certain that she already knows as much.

“Why?” she asks next, and still he doesn’t lift his eyes to look at her.

He takes a deep breath. “He was dying. It was the only thing I could do to save him.”

Natasha lets out a harsh, mirthless laugh. “Save him. Yeah. Has it ever crossed your mind what _he_ would say to it if you did that?”

“Not at the time, no,” Hal says, trying hard to keep his calm. “I was a little bit busy with trying to save his life.”

“Well maybe you should have,” Natasha bites out, “because this is not what he would have wanted.”

Something about the way she says that makes Hal finally look up at her, and he gives her a narrow-eyed glare. “Perhaps you should leave that to him to decide.”

Natasha barks out another harsh laugh. “It’s a little bit late for that, don’t you think? I mean, that… thing that was in the room with us just now… that was hardly Dominic anymore.”

Hal scoffs, shaking his head. “See, that’s where you’re going wrong. Where you’ve _both_ been going wrong all this time. Being turned into a vampire doesn’t change who you are as a person. It just… adds something to it.”

“Yeah,” Natasha replies, raising her eyebrows at him, “like the desire to kill and drink the blood of the people you used to love.”

Hal holds her gaze with a steady one of his own, then gives her a small smile and says, “He didn’t, though, did he? He ran away. Even though the hunger was nearly overwhelming him, and everything inside of him told him to attack you, in the end, he was stronger.”

For the first time in their conversation, Natasha averts her eyes, and Hal can’t help but see it as a minor victory. “So you’re saying that the reason he ran away was… because he still cared about me?”

Hal nods. “Of course, Tasha. I doubt he would have had that kind of self-restraint for anyone else.”

Natasha swallows. “So… so he’s still in there?” she asks, raising her eyes to meet his again, and now there is a question inside them, an uncertainty.

Hal smiles. “Yes, Tasha. Of course he is.”

Natasha is silent for a long moment after that, before she gives a sharp, determined nod, lifts her eyes up to meet Hal’s and says, “I want to talk to him.”

***

Dominic takes a seat at the kitchen table, his hands immediately folding around the hot cup of tea waiting for him there curtesy of Hal. Even from in here, he can smell the blood inside her veins, and he holds on to his mug with a vice like grip, biting down hard on his teeth to keep his fangs from descending. 

Then the kitchen doors swing open, and his head snaps up to see her standing in the doorway, hesitant, a small frown on her face.

“Tasha,” he says, pleased to find that his voice is sounding a lot more normal. 

She hovers in the doorway, unsure of what to do, and Dominic gives her the smallest of smiles. 

“You can sit down, you know,” he says. “I’ll do my very best not to bite.”

That actually gets a small chuckle out of her, and she slowly walks towards the table, eventually grabbing the chair furthest away from him and sitting down. Her eyes never leave him, he notices, and there is distrust and disgust in them in equal measures.

He looks down at his tea cup, then immediately back up at Tasha, and asks, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

She lets out a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh god, Dominic, you even still sound like…” she drifts off, and he can see actual tears forming in her eyes. She quickly wipes them away, then gives him a small, strained smile of her own and says, “I’d love one, thank you.”

Heaving a deep breath of relief, Dominic gets up and walks over to the kettle, following the familiar steps until he puts the finished tea down in front of Natasha with a smile and takes a seat back at the table across from her. His hands at once seek out the warmth of his own mug again, and he can see Natasha’s eyes darting down to them.

“Do you still drink tea then?” she asks.

It seems a fairly safe question as an ice-breaker, so Dominic nods and says, “Yes, I do.” And as if to prove his point, he lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip of the too-sweet, too-hot liquid, suppressing the grimace that usually accompanies it.

Natasha smiles and takes a sip of her own tea, then puts the mug back down on the table and says, “I got you a birthday cake.”

“Yes, I… I saw,” Dominic replies. “Thank you.”

“Were you a vampire when you spoke to me on the phone?” she asks then, taking him by surprise, and his eyes widen. “When I told you about the pregnancy? Were you a vampire then?”

Dominic swallows and nods. “Yes, Tasha.”

She shakes her head, and when her eyes come back up to look at him next, they are so full of pain that it makes his own heart ache. “How could you keep this from me, Dominic? Tell me some shitty little lie about glandular fever like I’m still that naive little girl that you used to know? Don’t you trust me at all?”

Dominic shakes his head, then lifts up his mug and takes another sip of tea. He swallows and says, “No, Tasha. Of course that’s not the reason.”

“Well, what then?” she asks.

“I… didn’t know how to tell you,” Dominic admits, meeting her eyes with his own. “It’s not something you just casually tell someone over the phone, you know. ‘Oh, by the way, last week Hal turned me into a vampire.’” Her breath hitches at his use of the v-word, and he gives her a grim smile. “You can call me a Type 2 if it’s easier.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dominic. Of course it’s not easier.”

Dominic sighs. “Well, anyway. My point was that it wasn’t something I felt comfortable just… telling you about over the phone. To be completely honest, I didn’t even feel comfortable talking about it full stop.” He looks down at his mug of tea once more as he adds, quieter, “I still don’t.”

“So I was right,” Natasha says quietly, and he steals a quick look at her to see a sad smile settling on her lips. 

Neither of them seems to know what to say after this, and there is a long silence, in which they both sit and sip their tea, lost in their own thoughts.

“What’s it like?” Natasha asks after what feels like several minutes, and he looks up to see her giving him a thoughtful look.

“For the most part it’s… surprisingly ordinary, actually, once you get over the initial shock,” he says, and is relieved to see a familiar small, crooked smile form at the corners of her mouth.

“Ordinary?” she asks.

He nods. “Once you get over the initial shock. I actually feel… surprisingly like myself,” he admits, the first time he even admits it to himself out loud.

“I can see that,” Natasha says, her smile growing slightly wistful as she looks at him. Then her expression turns apprehensive as she asks, “Have you… have you been drinking—”

“No,” Dominic cuts in, even before she finishes her sentence. “No, I…” He looks directly into her eyes. “I would have thought Hal told you,” he says, almost to himself, and then, “No, Tasha, I haven’t had any blood at all. Not even… not even bottled. I… I’m trying to—”

“You’re being an idiot,” Natasha says, and he frowns.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re just being your usual stubborn self,” she says, then continues in a deeper, posher voice, in what Dominic can only assume is an impersonation of himself, “‘Oh, no, I may be a vampire, but I’m above drinking blood, because I’m Dominic Rook’.” 

He can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips, and is relieved when Natasha joins in his laughter. 

“Well, yes, sort of,” he admits sheepishly. 

She rolls her eyes. “You really haven’t changed much.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Dominic replies with a smile.

Natasha nods, then takes another sip of her tea. “It’s the truth,” she says. “And at least now I don’t have to worry constantly anymore that… that he…”

“That he’s going to hurt me?”

She nods again. “Yeah.” She pauses for a moment, her brow creasing in thought, then looks back up at him and asks, “When I asked you to be the baby’s godfather… was this why you said no?”

“Tasha, I didn’t—”

She shakes her head. “You basically said no. You didn’t want to commit to it. And I know you, Mr Rook, if you don’t feel comfortable committing to something, you’ve already decided it’s a ‘no’.”

Dominic smiles. “I guess you do know me better than I realised.”

“Of course I do,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then that thoughtful look creeps back into her face, and she asks, “If I asked you again now… what would you say?”

Dominic swallows. “You mean you would still want me to…?”

Natasha lets out an exasperated breath through her nostrils. “Yes, Dominic. I do. So, would you?”

Dominic feels his breath catch in his throat, unsure of what to say. “I… I suppose… I’m not very good with ch—”

“You were good enough with me,” Natasha says, suddenly averting her eyes, as if there is more to her statement than she wants to admit. 

Dominic’s eyes narrow for a moment, but he decides to let it go. That conversation can wait for another time. Taking a deep breath, he says, “If that’s really what you want.”

“It is,” she says, nodding. “Thanks, Dominic.” And it is then that he grasps the real difference between _now_ and _before_. Because he expected her to jump up off her chair, run around the table and give him a barely reciprocated hug. But instead, she looks at him tensely, warily for a moment, a small half-smile on her lips, before she nervously bites her lip and adds, “I guess I should go.” And she quickly stands up and throws him another tiny smile, saying, “I hope you enjoy your cake. Or, well, someone does, at least.”

“You could stay and have a piece,” Dominic suggests, but he knows already that the attempt is futile.

Just as expected, she shakes her head and says, “Nah, thanks, I’m not really feeling much like cake,” before she finally makes it to the swinging doors, never once taking her eyes off of him like she expects him to jump on her as soon as her back is turned, and then the doors open and fall shut behind her, and he is once again alone in the kitchen.

“See you, Tasha,” he says into the empty room, then lifts his mug up to his lips and takes another sip of lukewarm tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note to say that _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ was actually on on BBC1 at 10.20am on 1st January 2014. Because, as you know, I’m big on realism.


	11. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, and sorry for the long wait! The heat really did a number on me this week, and I didn't get an awful lot done as a result. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn't take as long :)
> 
> Oh and once again thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos!

Feelings you never knew  
Pulling you under now  
You’re fighting the undertow  
Before it sucks you down

\- Feeder, “Pushing the Senses”

 

With a deep, resigned sigh, Dominic heaves himself out of bed, his eyes once again falling on the mobile phone lying on the bedside table. 

Hal left for a night shift at the hotel about two hours ago, and Dominic has been through several cycles of trying to go to sleep, realising that a) sleep is not forthcoming and b) if it does it will most likely be filled with blood-soaked dreams. He got up, opened up his laptop, checked his email. Found that no one had emailed him for the last five days – which is hardly surprising, seeing as the Archive was most likely operating on minimum staffing over the holiday period. 

Next, he browsed through Hal’s extensive book collection for something worthwhile to read, but while his father always encouraged him to develop an interest in the classics, he can’t claim that he is really all that literary-minded. Dominic’s bedtime stories used to consist of bits of files on Type 2s and Type 3s that he would ‘make disappear’ from the Archive, just for them to miraculously reappear in the secret hiding space at the bottom of his wardrobe. It was in that way that he learned all about the infamous Richard Turner, and hundreds-of-years-old child Type 2 Hetty, who, without him ever admitting it to anyone, regularly haunted his childhood dreams. 

Nowadays, the monster that haunts his dreams is none other than himself. Himself… and Hal. And he needs no further reminders of what he has become.

So, deciding that reading was unlikely to take his mind off the real reason why he was in this predicament, Dominic dropped back down on the side of the bed and decided to face the problem head on, and he picked up his phone off the bedside table and opened up his messages. And stared.

He stared until his eyes began to burn, because he didn’t know what else to do. Because how could he respond to her now? How could he talk to her? His vision blurred, making all the letters run into one ill-defined blob of text, and he dropped the phone back on the bedside table to try his luck with sleep again.

And so on, and so forth, for the last two hours, and now he finds himself once again staring at the phone, his thumb hovering, like so many times before in the last three days, over the reply button.

**Wed 1st Jan, 09:48 PM**

****

****

**Hey, how was the cake? Did you have any? I got home and I realised that I never actually wished you a Happy Birthday. Baby brain or something, I don’t know. So, um, Happy Birthday! I know it’s a bit late, but better late than never, right?**

Dominic smiles wistfully as his eyes wander down to the next message, sent only a few minutes later:

**Wed 1st Jan, 09:53 PM  
Also, I wanted to say that I don’t hate you. I realise I took off quite suddenly, and even though I’m sure you’d deny it, I know that you’ll be thinking about that. So I want to tell you that I don’t. I just need**

The message cuts out and continues in the next one underneath:

**Wed 1st Jan, 09:54 PM  
Stupid phone, sorry. I meant to say I just need some time. I hope you understand that.**

**Wed 1st Jan, 09:57 PM  
You know, it’s funny, but it feels so much easier to talk to you like this. Typing things out. It kinda makes it all a little bit less real. Like, I feel like I could tell you anything like this, like when I used to write in my diary when I was a kid.**

Dominic remembers with a stuttering beat of his heart how he wondered about what kind of things Tasha would’ve written about in her diary. He notices his vision slowly blurring, his eyes filling with unwanted tears as he continues on to the next message:

**Wed 1st Jan, 09:59 PM  
Like I could actually tell you that the reason I don’t hate you, that I hate Hal but I could never hate you whatever happened, is that you’re my family and I love you more than anything, and even as I sit here and I fucking mourn you, I can’t help but still feel that love for you.**

Dominic’s throat closes up and he hiccups out a shaky breath. A wayward tear drops onto his phone screen, and he quickly wipes it away with his thumb before he scrolls further through the messages:

**Wed 1st Jan, 10:02 PM  
But I guess none of that matters now, because you’re not the same Dominic anymore, and I think it would be best for both of us if we didn’t see each other for a little while.**

****

****

**Wed 1st Jan, 10:03 PM  
I just don’t think I could cope with seeing you looking at me with those eyes again. It’s what I see every time I close my eyes, and it makes me want to scream. **

_I won’t,_ he wants to tell her. _I’ll be more in control next time, I promise._

His thumb hovers over the mini keyboard, ready to put his thoughts down on the screen. But the truth is that he knows he can’t make her any such promise, so he pulls away at the last moment, dropping the phone back onto the shiny wooden surface of the bedside table before standing up and making his way out the door.

Predictably, he can just about make out Tom’s faint, even breathing from the room at the end of the hallway. Dominic quickly turns the other way and tiptoes down the stairs and into the semi-dark living room, lit up only by the streetlights outside and the flickering blue light of the TV screen in the corner.

“Hiya, Blondie,” Alex calls from the sofa, a hand reaching for the TV remote to pause whatever it is she is watching. She turns around to him with a furrowed brow. “I thought you’d gone to sleep?”

Dominic smiles grimly. “Changed my mind.” He walks over towards the corner sofa and takes a seat. “I need something to do, Alex.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean… I need something to take my mind off… things.”

Alex gives him a long, hard look. “The hunger, you mean?”

Dominic swallows and nods. “That, and… other things.” A slight wave of nausea courses through him when he realises that the two are surprisingly closely linked. 

Alex sighs. “Is this to do with Natasha?” she guesses, and he nods again.

“Yes.” He lifts his eyes towards Alex, who is looking at him expectantly. Heaving a deep sigh of his own, he continues, “Let’s just say that ever since Tasha’s visit…” He briefly closes his eyes, tries not to give in to the itching in his gums brought on by the mere memory of her, “the dreams I have at night have become an awful lot more… personalised.” A dark look flits across Alex’s face, and he looks down. “I’m sorry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alex vehemently shaking her head. “No, don’t be. I just… I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

Dominic swallows, a grim smile settling on his face as he stares at a point on the coffee table in front of him. “No. I suppose you can’t.” He finally lifts his eyes to look at her again when he adds, “Be grateful for that.”

Alex regards him in silence for a long moment. “So you’re saying you’d rather be a ghost?”

“Than this?” Dominic asks, giving her a wide-eyed look. She nods, and he nods back at her and says, “Most definitely.”

“It’s not all sunshine and roses either, you know?” Alex points out.

He sighs. “I know that, Alex. I’m not trying to belittle what you’re going through. I just…” He drifts off, squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then musters a tiny smile and continues, “Never mind that. Like I said, I need something to do. Something… meaningful. I don’t think I’ve had this much time off work since I was sixteen. It doesn’t agree with me.”

Alex snorts. “Hello? Do you realise who you’re talking to here? At least you can sleep. Me, I’m just… well. Let’s just say that Candy Crush got very old very quickly.”

Dominic chuckles. “I’m sorry, Alex. You do have a point. Maybe,” he adds, shaking his head, “maybe you’re just better at it than I am.”

Alex raises her eyebrows at him. “What, at doing nothing?”

“Yes, I… guess,” he says slowly, before his brain catches up with his mouth and he gives her a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry, Alex. I… I should probably shut up now.”

“Nah, don’t worry, Blondie,” Alex says. “I get it. You’re bored. And, hell, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Hal about being a vampire on the wagon, it’s his whole ‘Keep busy, keep sane’ nonsense. So, yeah, I get it.”

“Good,” Dominic says with an emphatic nod, and then, “Any ideas?”

Alex shrugs. “Could always try the dominoes?”

Dominic lets out a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’m quite that desperate yet.”

“Fair enough,” Alex says, joining in his laughter. “Well, if you want to do something meaningful, I think Hal said that the freezer needs defrosting. And the hoovering needs doing. But better not do that right now unless you want a grumpy werewolf on your hands.” She throws him a mock-thoughtful look. “You’re welcome to dust off the shelves in my room, if you want.”

“No, thank you,” Dominic says with a huff and a smile.

“What?” Alex asks innocently. “You asked for meaningful tasks to do. Those are all very meaningful tasks. But alternatively,” she adds in a quieter voice, “you could just sit here for a bit and watch rubbish telly with a lonely ghost. How about that?”

Dominic’s smile softens. “That sounds like a much better option,” he says and settles down on the sofa next to her, eyes wandering over to the TV screen just as she reaches back for the remote and presses ‘Play’. 

***

Hal does one last round of the dining room, where Josh and Natasha are setting the tables for breakfast before the first guests arrive. Natasha has been more than a little frosty towards him ever since she arrived around half an hour before, and he can’t say he can blame her. Truth be told, part of him didn’t expect her to turn up at all, after their big ‘revelation’ a few days prior. The more surprised he was when she did turn up, a stony expression on her face as she said, “Morning, Hal,” and made a bee line straight for the locker room.

“All right, I can see you’ve got it all in hand,” Hal now says to the room at large, earning a businesslike nod from Josh, and no reaction whatsoever from Natasha, who has her back turned to him and is painstakingly arranging the cutlery. “I’ll be on my way then,“ he adds. “Tom should be here in about half an hour.”

“Okay,” Josh says with another small nod.

Hal can just about hear Natasha mutter, “Thank god for that,” under her breath, and he sighs and turns towards the reception. 

Louise smiles at him from behind the reception desk. “Finished for the day, sir?” she asks.

It hasn’t escaped him that ever since their conversation on New Year’s Eve, she has taken to calling him ‘sir’ again. Something about it, paired with the irresistible smell of her O negative blood, stirs something deep inside of him, and he can’t help but wonder if the other one is responsible for it. A slight frown starts to settle on his face, before he catches himself, gives the blonde girl a small smile and says, “Yes, Louise. Have a good day.”

“I’ll do my best, s—” she hesitates, almost as if she expects him to correct her, but when he doesn’t, her face falls and she continues, “sir.”

“Good,” says Hal, still smiling. “And make sure you take the cash around to the bank sometime later, I noticed earlier it’s been building up.”

“Of course, s—” This time, her hesitation is nothing to do with him, as her eyes wander past him in the direction of the window, and her brow furrows. “Friend of yours?”

Hal whirls around, only to see a face he has only ever seen in a dream, now very real and alive and looking straight at him with wide, blue eyes.

“Oh,” Louise speaks up behind him, and Hal turns back to her just in time to see a faint blush creeping into her cheeks that makes his hunger flare up painfully. “He must be your boyfriend.”

“No,” Hal replies quickly, his own eyes widening at her conclusion. “No, he’s… just an acquaintance,” he says, looking back through the window, where the blond man, where _Jamie_ is now gesturing that he is about to come inside. Shaking his head frantically, Hal gestures back that he will meet him outside, and once again turns around to Louise.

“Well,” she says, smiling sadly. “He certainly looks like he wants to be.”

Hal clenches his teeth harder at her words. “I better be off,” he says tensely. “See you later, Louise.”

“Bye, sir, have a good day,” she calls after him as he reaches the front door, and quickly steps through into the cold morning air. 

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw you in there. I had no idea you work here.” 

Hal freezes in place, the door falling shut behind him, before he slowly turns towards the oddly familiar voice.

“Jamie, I thought I made it clear—”

“Hal, please,” Jamie says, and oh, he is so much more difficult to ignore when he is standing right in front of him, those big blue eyes looking straight at him in a way that reminds him of—

No. It doesn’t remind _him_ of anything, he tells himself. These are the other one’s memories seeping through. _He_ never even met this man before.

“Hal?” Jamie’s voice drifts into his consciousness then, and Hal’s head snaps up to look back at him. He doesn’t even remember looking away. “Have you been listening to me at all?” Jamie asks with a crease in his brow.

Hal sighs. “Jamie. I don’t know how many more times I need to tell you—”

“I know, Hal, you’re with someone else,” Jamie interrupts him again. “But… what I was thinking was… well… is she… or he?… are they… are they human?” Hal stares at Jamie for a long, silent moment, not saying anything or responding in any way, before the other continues, “Because if they’re not, if they’re a—” he lowers his voice, “—vampire as well, or something else, I don’t know, well, I… I just want you to know that I’d still be happy to—”

“No means no, Jamie,” Hal says, nostrils quivering as he recognises the other’s scent even in the chilly winter air. “I told you I didn’t want to see you again. I meant it. This is it.”

Jamie’s frown deepens. “What happened to you?” he asks. “You… you sound like a completely different—”

“Well, perhaps I am, all right?” Hal bites out, slightly more aggressively than he had intended. “What if I am a completely different person? The thing that matters is that I don’t want to see you again. So, please, don’t come back here again. Don’t call me, don’t send me text messages. I want you out of my life, you understand me?”

Jamie stands stock still, staring at him with those blasted big blue eyes for what seems like a small eternity. Then he heaves a deep sigh and slowly nods. “All right,” he says, his voice dripping with bitterness and disappointment. “I understand.”

Hal finds that he can’t look at him anymore, so he averts his eyes, fixes them on a silver Lexus that is parked a little way down the road from where they are standing, almost identical to Dominic’s old car. The car that he almost died in.

“Good,” he says, giving Jamie a sharp nod without taking the eyes off the car. “I’m glad we understand each other.” 

Then he starts walking down the road at a swift pace, not waiting for the other man to reply, not looking back to see the disappointment in those too pretty eyes. And he fixes his own eyes on the pavement in front of him, not looking back up until he finds himself walking up the familiar path to the front door of Honolulu Heights. 

***

Dominic hears the front door opening and closing, and soft footsteps in the hallway, coming up the stairs. He turns around in bed, facing the door just in time to see it open, and Hal steps into the room, an air of disquiet about him that Dominic can’t quite interpret. 

“Hal?” he asks, and Hal turns around to him, his face bathed in the warm orange glow of the first rays of sunlight shining in throw the window.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Dominic admits as Hal steps closer, a small frown on his face as he regards him wordlessly. “I didn’t sleep for most of the night.”

“Dominic—” Hal starts, but Dominic sits up in bed and quickly shakes his head. 

“No, Hal, please. I don’t want to talk about it. Just… come here, please?”

Hal nods and takes the last few steps towards the bed, sinking down on the mattress next to him, and Dominic immediately moves in, takes Hal’s face between both of his hands and presses his lips to Hal’s. 

“I hate to say this, but… I missed you,” he admits, his voice all but a whisper against Hal’s lips, and the other sighs before pressing another gentle kiss to Dominic’s lips.

“I missed you too,” he says, and Dominic can tell that he is talking about much more than just last night. “It’s good to see you.”

Dominic nods, his forehead brushing slightly against Hal’s in the process, before his hands move around to the back of Hal’s head, and he lets himself fall back on the pillow, pulling Hal down on top of him until their lips connect again.

“Mmmh,” he breathes in between kisses. “Hal.”

“Yes?”

“I…” Dominic finds that he can’t say it, so instead he lifts his hands up to push Hal’s suit jacket off his shoulders. Then he makes quick work of Hal’s red tie. 

“I see,” Hal says, smiling slightly into the kiss.

“Yes,” Dominic whispers back, returning his smile as his hands move on to undoing Hal’s shirt buttons.

One of Hal’s hands comes up and halts his for a moment, and he pulls back a fraction to give Dominic a scrutinising look. “Are you sure about this?”

Dominic swallows and nods, then pulls Hal’s head back down to continue the kiss. “Yes,” he breathes once more, and Hal’s hand releases his own, allowing him to move further down Hal’s chest, exposing his soft pale skin one button at a time.

Hal’s own hands cradle the side of Dominic’s face as he props himself up above him on his elbows, and he lets out a quiet hiss when he feels Dominic’s fingers brush against his belly button. 

Dominic smiles. “You like that?”

“Oh yes.” Hal nods, kisses him again, then pushes himself up so he sits straddling Dominic’s hips, shrugging off the shirt before his own fingers take hold of the hem of Dominic’s t-shirt and push it up his chest. Dominic wordlessly lifts his arms and allows Hal to remove the piece of clothing, and he shivers when Hal’s hands roam back down his naked chest before he once again leans in and captures his lips in another kiss. 

Dominic’s hands wander up and around to Hal’s naked back, brushing up and down, relishing with his newly heightened senses the feeling of Hal’s skin under his fingertips, the way it feels almost like silk to him now.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Hal whispers against his mouth.

“Like what?” Dominic can’t help but ask, pulling away with a slight crease forming on his brow.

Hal frowns at his sudden change in tone. “Just… lying there like this,” he explains, and Dominic feels himself relax slightly, but still can’t help the next words that come unbidden out of his mouth.

“Does it work for you too? The… bond?”

Hal nods. “Of course, it works both ways. But,” he quickly adds as he watches Dominic’s frown deepen, “I would have said the same thing regardless of that. This isn’t just some magic bond speaking, Dominic. I love you.”

Dominic feels a sudden lump forming in his throat, and he swallows. “I…” he drifts off, and Hal smiles at him, a little wistfully, as one of his hands comes up to brush against the side of Dominic’s face. 

“I know,” Hal says, and kisses him again. 

For a long moment after that, all Dominic is aware of is Hal’s soft lips against his own, the feeling of Hal’s naked skin brushing against him, the way the muscles in his back flex under his fingertips. Then Hal’s mouth wanders downwards, peppering kisses against his jaw, his neck, and he feels an involuntarily shiver running through him when he feels Hal press a soft kiss to the two shiny scars in his neck. 

He lets out a breathy moan, and Hal lifts his head up to look at him. “You okay?”

Dominic nods. “I’m fine.”

“All right, then,” Hal replies, a smile in his voice, as he leans back down and follows the path of the silver chain around his neck, pressing kisses to his left collarbone and moving further down, until Dominic can feel the very tip of his tongue making contact with his left nipple. 

“Oh dear god, Hal,” he groans out.

Hal chuckles, but doesn’t stop what he is doing, his tongue making slow circles around the sensitive flesh of his nipple. Dominic can feel a powerful surge of arousal deep inside of him, and his cock twitches in his boxers, brushing ever so slightly against Hal’s thigh.

Hal laughs again and lifts his mouth away from Dominic for a moment. Dominic looks down at him with wide eyes, but breathes a sigh of relieve when the next moment, Hal descends on his other nipple, repeating the routine with just as much care as before. Dominic whimpers as another powerful shiver runs through him, adding to the fast building arousal inside of him. Their eyes meet, and he can see Hal’s lips forming a self-satisfied smile.

Dominic shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Just…” the rest of the sentence dissolves in a loud groan as one of Hal’s hands wanders down his stomach and brushes lightly against the growing erection in his boxers. “Hal,” he chokes out.

Hal once again lifts his head off of his chest and gives him an intense look. “Yes?”

Dominic looks back at him for a long moment, two conflicting thoughts warring inside his mind, fighting for dominance. But his arousal is too strong, his resolve too weak, and finally, he takes a deep breath and croaks, “Touch me, please.”

“Dom—”

“Please, Hal,” he says again, loud and clear this time, meeting Hal’s questioning eyes with his own. 

Hal slowly nods, then sits up again and shuffles slightly backwards, his hands coming up to the waistband of Dominic’s boxers. “Lift up your hips,” he says quietly, and Dominic does, watching as Hal pulls his underwear down in one quick, fluid movement. 

Dominic lets out a ragged breath as his erection springs free, the lump in his throat back with full force, but he once again swallows it down and lifts his eyes towards Hal’s hazel ones as the other leans over him to once again meet his lips in a kiss, while his fingers gently close around Dominic’s hard length.

“Oh, Hal,” Dominic breathes against Hal’s lips, his arousal building and growing and spreading and now he can feel the familiar itching in his gums, but he is already way too far gone not to just allow it to happen.

Hal, if he does notice, doesn’t say anything, just keeps kissing him in that same slow, gentle way, while his hand on his cock becomes tighter and faster, and it’s been a while, Dominic thinks, as he feels himself drifting closer and closer to the edge. 

Then Hal’s mouth once again roams away from his own, almost as if he is drawn to that spot in the crook of his neck, and before he has a chance to stop himself, Dominic gasps, “Bite me.”

Hal’s head snaps up, even as the movement of his hand on Dominic’s cock never falters. “What?” 

Dominic lets out a ragged sigh. “Bite me, Hal. Please.”

“Dominic, I’m not sure that would be—”

“Hal,” Dominic cuts in, a finger reaching out to run across Hal’s bottom lip, before dipping in and brushing against the tip of one of his sharp fangs. “Please.”

Hal swallows, looks at him intently, his eyes flicking down for a fraction of a second to take in Dominic’s own exposed fangs before coming back up again, and he nods. And with his hand still busy at work on Dominic’s leaking erection, Hal leans back in, his nose nudging against the side of Dominic’s neck, eliciting a quiet, anticipatory moan from Dominic.

Then, Dominic feels the very tips of Hal’s fangs making contact with his skin, and he lets out another moan, louder, deeper than before, when the fangs break through, and it feels familiar and new and soothing and exciting all at once. Dominic’s eyes feel itchy and he blinks, and bright, beautiful colours erupt all around him as he feels Hal sucking on his neck.

“Oh…” he gasps out, barely able to form words, barely even _aware_ of Hal’s hand still moving tirelessly up and down his hard length as all his senses are suddenly overcome with the powerful scent that erupts from the open wound in his neck, his _own_ neck, and he is faintly aware of how weird and wrong it is to be affected in this way, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

And he reaches out both hands to pull Hal’s head away from his neck, and he meets Hal’s eyes with his own for a moment, mesmerised by the myriad of colours inside of them, before his eyes flick down to Hal’s blood-smeared lips and a surge of arousal more powerful than he has ever felt it before rushes through him, and he lifts his head up to crush his lips to Hal’s, tongue slipping out to lick at the blood on his lips, and the taste… oh… the taste of it is… it’s unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He hears himself moaning again, even as his hands tighten to hold Hal’s head in place while his tongue slips inside the other’s mouth, licking, tasting.

How can this be the same thing he used to taste on Hal’s lips after he bit him? The tangy, metallic, slightly sickening taste he remembers so well, that he used to associate so strongly with Hal. He always wondered what he saw in it, how he could be so crazy for it, when all it did for Dominic was make him feel slightly nauseous. 

But not now… now, it is the most wonderful thing he can possibly imagine, and it makes his head spin and his skin tingle and somewhere far off in the distance he can hear someone moan again, a broken, muffled sound, and he thinks it might be him, but he can’t be sure. Can’t be sure of anything right now.

His tongue continues its quest for more of that taste, but it fades quickly, and before long, all that is left is a faint echo, and he withdraws, pressing another weak kiss to Hal’s lips. He slowly becomes aware of Hal’s hand on him again, his erection so hard, his skin so sensitive that Hal’s touch is almost painful, and he is so close to the edge now, so close…

One of Hal’s hands comes up to brush the side of his face then, gentle fingers caressing his cheek, and Dominic doesn’t know how it happens, doesn’t understand what possesses him, but doesn’t have any way of stopping himself as he turns his head to the side ever so slightly, his lips pressing a feather-light kiss to the soft skin on the inside of Hal’s wrist, and he thinks he can hear Hal’s breath hitch as he grabs hold of his arm, holding it in place as he opens his mouth, and he bites.

His fangs glide through the delicate skin like a knife through butter, and he instinctively finds the vein, and then his mouth is flooded by more of that indescribable taste, and he greedily sucks on the two small punctures. Hal’s blood tastes similar to his own, but also different, more potent somehow, he muses, and then the thought repeats itself inside his head, and he freezes.

Hal’s blood. He is drinking _Hal’s blood._

His hands let go of Hal’s arm as if burned, and he scrambles backwards on the bed, away from Hal, who sits up and looks at him with wide hazel eyes.

Dominic thinks his own eyes are still black, probably, but he isn’t sure, because his head feels fuzzy and he can barely string two coherent thoughts together. 

“Dominic,” Hal says calmly, reaching out a hand – his other hand, Dominic notices, not the one that is still slowly oozing blood onto his pale skin, dripping onto the off-white bedsheet. 

“No,” he hears himself say as if from far away. He shakes his head, flinches away from Hal’s approaching hand. Still, his tongue flicks out, as if on autopilot, to lick a stray drop of blood off of his own lips, and he feels a sudden surge of disgust and loathing for himself like he never has before. “No, Hal. I can’t…” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to collect himself, trying to _think_ , but oh, it’s hard, when all he can think of is how to get more of that taste, to feel that elation again. He takes a deep breath. “I can’t do this, Hal. I need to get away… from this.”

And he shuffles to the edge of the bed and stands up, wordlessly walking over to the wardrobe to throw on a fresh set of clothes. He can hear Hal’s voice behind him, calling to him through the cotton wool that is spreading in his head. “Dominic, please, stay,” Hal says. Dominic doesn’t respond, and Hal’s voice is louder, more worried, when he asks, “Where are you going?” 

“I just need to get out,” he says, sounding almost robotic as he makes his way on unsteady feet towards the door, not looking back once as he opens and then closes it behind him, his feet carrying him down the stairs and into the living room.

“Dominic?” he hears, and it’s Alex’s voice, sounding alarmed. “Is everything all right?”

He nods absentmindedly, his eyes roaming the bar for the item he is looking for. “Yes, Alex, everything is fine,” he replies, still in that robotic voice that is clearly not fooling anyone.

“What happened?” Alex asks. “Did you and Hal have a fight?”

He laughs, a slightly hysterical sound, and shakes his head. “No. We didn’t have a fight.”

“Then wh—”

“For the love of god, please, just leave me alone!” he bellows, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see her flinch back.

“All right,” she mumbles.

And then he sees it, and his hand reaches out to grab hold of the shiny metal key before he swiftly moves back into the hallway and towards the front door. 

“Dominic?” Alex calls again, and Dominic turns around just in time to see Hal appear at the top of the stairs, and their eyes meet for the briefest moment, before Dominic turns back around and steps through one door, then the other, and he can hear both of their voices calling after him as he makes his way down the path to the pavement, throws open the driver’s door of the light blue Mercedes, gets in and turns the key in the ignition.

The old engine roars to life, and Dominic can just about see the two figures of Hal and Alex standing on the pavement, horror and panic in their eyes, as he speeds off down the road as fast as the old car can take him.


	12. Safe Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Here’s Chapter 12 v2.0 :)

When darkness falls  
And surrounds you  
When you fall down  
When you're scared  
And you're lost, be brave  
I'm coming to hold you now  
When all your strength has gone  
And you feel wrong  
Like your life has slipped away  
Follow me  
You can follow me  
And I will not desert you now

\- Muse, “Follow Me”

 

Hal watches with wide eyes as Leo’s Mercedes disappears around the corner at the bottom of Canon Street, his chest rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.

“Shit, Hal,” Alex chokes out next to him, and he turns around to see her looking back at him with equally big eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. “What the hell happened?”

Hal sighs and runs a frustrated hand across his forehead, his hypersensitive hearing still picking up the old Mercedes engine roaring away in the distance. He drops his hand and is about to reply when Alex gasps.

“Hal?” she asks. “What happened to your wrist?”

Hal’s eyes widen. “Alex, listen, this is not the—”

“Show me your wrist!” Alex grinds out, and, with a heavy sigh, he lifts up his left arm, two bright pink half-healed puncture marks still clearly visible on his pale skin. “You’re not fucking serious,” Alex breathes, her voice icy as she slowly shakes her head and meets his eyes. “He did that?” 

“Yes, Alex, he did, but—”

“No bloody wonder he ran off,” she snaps.

Hal exhales sharply through his nose. “I’m sorry, Alex, but that is really not helping right now,” he points out urgently. “We have to find him and bring him back here.”

Alex barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Do you ever think about these things _before_ you go and do something so completely and utterly stupid?”

“Alex!” Hal bellows, his eyes pleading. “Can we _please_ focus on the thing that matters right now?”

Alex gives him a long, dark look, but eventually nods. “All right.”

“Thank you,” Hal says, returning her nod. Then, looking back down the now deserted road with a crease forming on his brow, he asks, “Can you… I don’t know… rent-a-ghost into the car or something?” 

Alex sighs. “No, Hal, I can’t. Not while the car is moving.”

“But—” Hal starts, then stops himself and lets out a frustrated huff. “Shit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alex looking at him. “Any idea where he might be going?”

Hal slowly shakes his head in an attempt to clear the slight fuzz that has settled inside it. Even though Dominic’s blood was weak and diluted after such a long time of not feeding, it still affected him in a way that the sterile bottled stuff from the Archive never could. 

“Hal?” Alex prompts, and he turns around to her.

“Hmm?”

“Where do you think he might…” She trails off, a thoughtful expression on her face as she reaches into her jacket pocket.

Hal’s eyes flick down to her hand for a moment. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like?” Alex asks, an exasperated note creeping into her voice as she pulls her phone from her pocket and starts looking through her contacts. “I’m calling him.”

“He won’t answer the phone when he’s driving,” Hal points out.

Alex throws her arms up in the air. “Well, have you got any better suggestions?”

Hal swallows thickly, the faint aftertaste of Dominic’s blood still on his tongue. “No,” he admits, earning himself a smug look from Alex as she lifts the phone up to her ear, and he can hear the quiet dial tone from where he stands next to her. 

The phone rings and rings, until there is a faint clicking noise, and a moment later Dominic’s voice sounds through the receiver, “Hello,” he starts, and Hal’s breath hitches in his throat, until the voice continues, “You have reached Dominic Rook’s phone. Unfortunately I’m not able to answer your call at the moment—”

“Damn it,” Alex bites out as she cancels the call. “You’re right.”

Hal nods. “All right then,” he says grimly, eyes once again wandering down the empty road before he brings them back up to Alex. “What next?”

***

Dominic stumbles through the underbrush, trying hard to pay no attention to the buzzing in his head and the tingling in his skin and the burning in his lungs from breathing the cold winter air, and the way his eyes can't seem to focus, making the landscape before him blur into one solid wall of green and brown. 

He doesn't pay attention to those feelings, because they don't belong to him. They belong to the monster that dwells inside of him. And maybe, he thinks, if he denies the monster’s existence, it will finally give up on trying to make him do things and say things and _feel_ things that are so decidedly not him.

The rustling of leaves and creaking of branches under his feet is familiar, so he focuses on them instead, and suddenly he is twelve years old again, jumping off the bus with red-rimmed eyes burning with unshed tears, because boys don't cry, and most certainly not in public, thank you very much. A perfectly ironed school uniform hiding the painful red-purple bruises marring his skin, a mask of aloofness and apathy hiding the feelings of fear and pain and loneliness that he knows he can never share with anyone. So he walks, one foot in front of the other, along the overgrown path, each step taking him closer to safety. To the one place where none of that can touch him.

A thick, low-hanging branch hits him square in the forehead, and he lets out a low growl that he doesn’t recognise as belonging to him at all and snaps the dry old branch straight off the tree trunk with a satisfying _crack_ that reverberates around the quiet woods. 

Dominic continues walking down the path until he reaches the edge of the woods and steps through into the cold, grey morning light that illuminates the beach. He takes a deep breath, feels the salty sea air filling his lungs, hears the rhythmic splashing of the waves against the cliff wall, and he briefly closes his eyes and bathes in the familiarity of it, remembers the way it always used to instantly calm him.

If only he could feel that same calm now.

But the truth is that his body is thrumming with a strange, foreign energy, as if charged by an electric current, and his breaths are still coming too shallow and too fast, and he feels hot and flushed despite the chill of the January air.

Dominic swallows thickly and opens his eyes, looking further along the beach to the opening in the cliff wall, and he starts walking again.

***

“Think, Hal!” Alex says for what must be the twentieth time. Not that he would have had the capacity to actually count, as his mind is busy doing exactly what she is asking of him. “Where do you think he could have gone? The Archive?”

Hal huffs out a laugh. “And expose himself to his work colleagues? Hardly.”

Alex frowns. “Do you think he might have gone to his old flat? Natasha’s flat?”

Hal shakes his head. “He would never willingly put her at risk. Natasha is at work, but I don’t know if he knows that.” He meets Alex’s eyes. “No, I’m sure that’s not it either.”

Alex’s frown deepens and her voice is very quiet and hesitant when she asks, “You don’t think he would’ve… attacked someone, do you? A human?”

Hal feels frustration bubbling up inside of him from her incessant questions. “For God’s sake, I don’t know, Alex!” he shouts, and her eyes widen. Taking a calming breath and putting on a somewhat forced smile, he adds, “I’m sorry, I… I just honestly don’t know.” He hangs his head, then looks back up a moment later when he feels a ghostly hand tentatively touching his shoulder. He looks deeply into Alex’s brown eyes and says, “We need to find him, Alex.”

She nods. “I know, Hal. And we will. I’m sure we will.”

He smiles at her again, and it comes a lot more naturally this time. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s just think about this again,” Alex says, and Hal does his best to suppress the weary sigh that threatens to escape his mouth. “Is there anywhere else you know, any places he’s told you about? From his childhood, maybe? He grew up in Cardiff, didn’t he?” She frowns. “I don’t know, childhood home?”

“No,” Hal says, shaking his head vehemently. “He wouldn’t want to remember…” he drifts off, a sudden light bulb switching on in his brain, and he looks up at Alex again. “Of course,” he whispers. “Somewhere he would run to. Where he would feel safe.”

“Yes, exactly,” Alex confirms with a nod, staring straight back at him with big brown eyes. 

“Thanks, Alex,” Hal says, jumps up off his chair and crosses the room towards the reception desk. 

“Hal?” he hears Alex asking behind him. “What are you doing?”

Hal turns around, the receiver of the green phone firmly clasped in his hand. “I’m calling a taxi,” he says, and dials.

***

Tom walks down the corridor at a steady pace, heading for the stairs. He should take over reception for a while to allow Louise to go for her break. He swiftly walks past the nondescript wooden doors on each side of the corridor, until he comes up to one that is open, and he chances a look inside.

His eyes widen and his breath catches in his throat when he sees Natasha, her small body stretched across the king size bed to expertly tuck in and flatten the sheet against the mattress, her nimble hands running across the crisp white fabric with practised ease. 

Tom finds that he can’t tear his eyes away from her, from the way her arms are moving out from her shoulders and across the large mattress, the way some locks of her dark brown hair have escaped from the messy bun at the back of her head, or the way her maroon uniform perfectly hugs her slim figure like a second skin. Has it always been this tight? He honestly can’t remember it being like this, but then who is he to criticise Natasha for putting on a pound or two? In his eyes, she is perfect just the way she is.

As if she can feel his eyes on her, Natasha freezes and slowly turns around, a small smile flitting across her face before it is quickly replaced by a dark, painful look that he wishes he didn’t have to see on her face ever.

“Tasha,” he says, taking an almost involuntary step into the room as she stands stock still by the bed, watching him.

“You lied to me,” she states, her voice cold, emotionless, even as her eyes clearly betray the hurt she is feeling.

“I didn’t—” Tom starts, but is interrupted by a harsh laugh.

“No?” Tasha says, lifting her eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, it was _you_ telling me that Dominic had the fucking _flu_. What do you call that if not a lie?”

Tom sighs. “Tasha, listen, I had to—”

“You should’ve told me the truth!” she yells at him, and Tom gives her a sad look, but doesn’t respond immediately and instead turns around and closes the door. It wouldn’t do to have a random work colleague walking in on their argument.

Then he turns back around to face Natasha and, as calmly as he can, says, “I couldn’t tell ya nowt, Tasha. It was for him to tell ya, not me. I… I didn’t wanna lie to ya, but it weren’t like I had a choice.”

Natasha lets out a frustrated sigh. “I thought… I thought we were…” she drifts off and looks down at her feet.

“We are,” Tom says with conviction, because, well, they _are_ , aren’t they?

Natasha’s eyes snap back up to him, red raw with unshed tears. “I can’t believe…” she starts thickly, “He… he hated… he would never’ve…” She trails off again, takes a deep breath, and asks, “How did it happen?” When Tom doesn’t immediately reply, she adds, “How did he… die?”

“It was after ya left,” Tom starts, and Natasha frowns.

“You mean…?”

“The night ya came for dinner,” Tom confirms, and he watches helplessly as the tears in her eyes finally spill over and leave a wet trail down her cheeks.

“Oh god,” she whispers, and for a moment, neither of them says anything. He wants to go over, to hug her and tell her that it’s going to be okay. But how can he? It would just be another lie. So he stays where he is, helplessly watching her cry, until finally she looks straight back up at him again and says, “Tell me what happened.”

Tom frowns at her. “I weren’t there. I was droppin’ ya back home, weren’t I?”

Natasha nods. “Of course.”

“But I can tell ya what Hal an’ Alex said,” he continues, and she gives him a small nod. “Right,” he says. “So it seems like he… he was kinda compelled to kill ‘imself, by the men with sticks ’n rope. After ‘e’d gone to purgatory an’ that.”

“I knew that was a fucking stupid idea,” Natasha says under her breath, and Tom nods, even as he silently thinks, _I would’ve done the same for you_.

“Yeah,” he says out loud, “but it is what it is, so… Anyway, dunno the details of it, but, like… he was dyin’, an’ Hal… Hal was tryin’ to save ‘im.”

Natasha huffs. “That’s exactly what Hal said. But this… this isn’t _saving_ him. He’s still…”

“I wouldn’ta let ‘im,” Tom blurts out. “If it were me, I woulda… I dunno, I woulda tried ’n stopped ‘im. But Alex… she weren’t able to…”

“I don’t blame Alex,” Natasha says quickly. “It wasn’t her responsibility, it wasn’t her fault. What I don’t get is… how could Dominic allow it to happen?” 

“He’d passed out,” Tom explains, watching Natasha’s frown deepen.

“So he really didn’t have any kind of say in it,” she says thoughtfully, then, a moment later, “God, this makes me sick. The way he just… _forced_ himself into his life and-and… and took control of it. Convinced him to let him drink his blood. I never understood how he… And now… now he’s…”

Tom feels an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach as he feels his loyalty being torn back and forth between his best mate and the girl before him. The girl he is in love with. 

“Hal’s a good guy,” he says eventually, and Natasha narrows her eyes at him.

“How can you say that? After what he’s done? All the horrible things he’s done?”

Tom gives her a thoughtful look. “But that’s jus’ it, innit? He’s done all those things, but he’s still tryin’ to do better. To _be_ better. He wouldn’ta done this if it weren’t his only option.”

Natasha shakes her head, and her voice is bitter when she says, “It would’ve been kinder to just let him die.”

Tom sighs deeply, but decides that it is not worth arguing. Instead, he just repeats, “Hal’s a good guy.”

Natasha gives him a disbelieving look. “He’s a vampire,” she spits out, as if the word itself leaves a bad taste in her mouth. “I thought you of all people would understand, I thought…” She takes a deep, slightly shaky breath. “I thought, because you’ve gone through a similar thing, you’d…” She trails off with another small shake of her head.

“I know what ya mean,” Tom says. “I don’t like vampires no more than you do, Tasha.” Natasha opens her mouth to argue, and Tom quickly continues, “But Hal… he’s different. He’s all righ’. He’s been me best mate for the last couple years, and even now he’s back on the blood again, it ain’t like he’s been goin’ an’ killin’ people all over, is it? He’s been good. An’ Dominic, he’s not even had any blood at all, he don’t wanna, he told me.”

“I know,” Natasha interjects. “He told me the same.”

“See?” says Tom. “He’s doin’ all righ’. And he didn’t attack you an’ all. And if there’s anyone who can help ‘im stay that way, it’s gonna be Hal.”

Natasha lets out a deep sigh. “I really want to believe you’re right.”

***

Dominic lifts his feet out of the freezing water and steps onto the equally cold rock surface of the cave, but his body still feels almost feverish as he takes a few steps inside. He turns around and looks through unfocused eyes at the grey, hazy sky and the crashing waves outside before he unceremoniously drops down onto the hard floor.

A loud _clang_ makes him look down, and his eyes fall on the dry old tree branch he broke off earlier, now lying discarded on the ground next to him. He hadn’t even noticed that he was still carrying it, yet here it is, the sharp, pointed end where the wood fibres had been ripped from the stronger trunk taunting and tempting him. He takes a deep, ragged breath, and the cold, salty air once again sets his lungs on fire. 

This… this existence… is this really what he wants for himself for the next… few hundred years? Hell, some vampires lived to be thousands of years old. Can he really, honestly tell himself that he can cope with the thought of being like _this_ … for all eternity?

The hunger is already clawing at his insides again, slowly building from a niggling ache to the feeling of talons ripping him apart, and the pain is made so much worse by the short, blissful absence of it after he…

After he drank Hal’s blood.

It wasn’t even human blood, he reminds himself. He knew that vampires can drink other vampires’ blood, but it’s nowhere near as potent, as effective, because it lacks the life force that they need to feed on. Because they’re dead. Because _he’s_ dead.

Dominic’s eyes fall back on the tree branch, and he frowns. He’s already dead. He has already killed himself once. What would stop him from doing it again, from doing it right this time? Hal is not here to stop him now, no one is. It’s just him, and the cave, and the ocean.

This cold, dead body would disintegrate into dust and blow away into the waves, and no one would ever even know where and how he died. He would just… disappear.

Dominic reaches out to lift up the branch, holds it in his hand for a long moment, his eyes wide as he stares at it. This is his way out. His way to end this monstrous existence that he never chose, never wanted. It is the right thing to do, he knows it is, and yet…

He hesitates. His hand holding the stake shakes uncontrollably, and he can feel tears burning in the corners of his eyes. He blinks them away angrily. There is no room for tears here. 

His eyes come back up from the branch, and wander around the cave, and out to the sea. This place used to be his escape, his refuge. It used to give him strength, and calm, and all the things he didn’t feel when he was at home and at the mercy of an angry, bitter man that drank too much and couldn’t control his temper. He closes his eyes and tries to channel some of that strength and calm now, listens to the soothing sound of the waves reverberating around the walls of the cave. He has to be strong. He has to take control. He has to do the sensible thing.

The sound of wood clattering onto the rocky ground for the second time jolts him from his thoughts, and he looks down at his empty hand, the wood rolling a couple of feet away from him on the cave floor, but stopping short of dropping off the cliff edge into the water. He balls his hand into a fist for a moment, a myriad of mixed feelings coursing through him all at once. And then his eyes wander up from his fist and fall on the faint, barely there scars left in his skin by Hal’s fangs, what seems like a lifetime ago. A strange tingle rushes through him at the sight now, accompanied by a flashback of a shiny silver blade cutting into his skin, blood pouring out into the white sink of his London flat. 

Dominic squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. He knows it’s the hunger that makes him think these thoughts, but he feels powerless to stop them all the same. So he opens his eyes, and he fixes them on the faint white scars on his wrist. And he feels the by now familiar sensation of his fangs breaking through his gums, and he brings his arm further up towards his mouth, and he bites down.

The pain of the fangs piercing through his skin is almost entirely drowned out by the sweet taste of blood on his tongue. It is weak, he can even tell that himself, now that he has tasted Hal’s in comparison. But it is the best he has got, and he will take anything he can get at this point. 

A part of him wonders, while he greedily sucks at the vein in his wrist, whether it is the fact that Hal regularly consumes human blood, albeit bottled and old, that makes his blood so much stronger and more potent than his own. Or perhaps it is merely the fact that he is an Old One. He will have to ask him sometime, Dominic thinks, and then is startled by his own thought. Does this mean… does this mean that he is going to go back to Hal? That he is accepting this… _this_ … and willing to move forward despite it all? Has he really made his decision?

Dominic feels an odd sense of calm and serenity settle into him from the slow influx of blood, and he wonders how that even works, seeing as the blood was already in his system to begin with. But who is he to argue with this? After all, calm was what he came to find here in the first place. His tongue slips out to lap up a stray trickle of blood from his wrist, and he lets out a content little sigh. 

He has all but forgotten about the rest of the world around him at this point, all that matters in this moment is the sweet, irresistible flavour on his tongue, and at first, the loud, persistent noise that invades his consciousness is nothing but a petty nuisance. But it doesn’t go away, that noise, and he recognises it from somewhere. Yes, he has definitely heard it before. Many times before. It is meant to alert him to something. What is it?

Dominic rips his mouth away from his bleeding wrist, watches for a moment in mesmerised fascination as the slow trickle of red runs down his skin and onto the cave floor. His tongue comes out to lick at his lips, and he realises they are covered in blood. He must look a right mess.

As the fuzz in his head slowly clears and his thoughts become more coherent, he recognises that the incessant noise that echoes around the cave is his phone ringing, and he sighs. It must be Hal or Alex trying to call him, to find out where he ran off to, to come and get him and take him back to safety. Except that this is currently the safest place he can imagine.

With another quick lick across his lips, Dominic pulls the Blackberry from his pocket and looks at the screen. And frowns.

It is not Hal, or Alex. The number that greets him on the screen is not one that he recognises at all. It is a UK landline number, area code 01248. A shiver runs through him as he recognises the familiar dialling code. Not the rest of the number, but…

Dominic lifts the phone to his ear, the lingering taste of blood on his tongue in jarring contrast to the professional quality of his voice when he says, “Hello?”

“Is this Mr Dominic Rook?” an equally professional sounding male voice replies on the other end.

“It is,” Dominic confirms, then, “Who’s speaking?”

“My name is Ross Baker, I’m a solicitor at Baker and Cahill Solicitors in Beaumaris,” the man says, and Dominic feels another shiver under his skin. 

“Solicitors?” he asks, absentmindedly searching his pockets for a handkerchief to wipe the remainder of the blood off his mouth. Even though the man can’t see him, it doesn’t hurt to make oneself look presentable.

“Yes, sir, that’s right. I am calling with regards to the estate of the late Geraldine Rook, who I believe was your grandmother?”

“Yes,” Dominic confirms, his voice breaking slightly as he realises with a pang that he was never actually officially notified of his grandmother’s death. He was likely in hospital himself at the time, he thinks, deep in a coma and unreachable by the outside world. The thought that she is really and truly gone from this world hurts him more than he would have expected, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself calm and focused. After a long moment, he clears his throat and says, “Sorry, yes, that’s correct.”

“My condolences,” the man – Baker – says, and Dominic has to keep himself from huffing at the businesslike tone of his voice that carries no genuine feeling of sympathy. 

“Thank you,” he answers regardless, if only to help the man get to the point.

“Now, the reason I’m calling you is that I have been tasked with managing Mrs Rook’s estate,” Baker continues. “As far as we can tell, your grandmother didn’t leave a will, and as her only surviving blood relative, it currently looks like you are the only heir.”

Dominic can’t stop himself from letting out a small, slightly hysterical chuckle at the irony of the man’s words. _Surviving blood relative_ indeed. 

“Mr Rook? Are you all right?” Baker asks.

Dominic sighs and nods. “Yes, sorry, I’m fine. I… I hadn’t really even thought about… inheritance…”

“Of course,” Baker says. “It’s not always on the forefront of people’s minds when a loved one dies, I do understand.”

 _You don’t sound like you do,_ Dominic can’t help but think as he takes in the man’s cold, almost bored sounding voice.

“The most important part of the inheritance we need to speak about,” Baker carries on, “is the matter of the property. I’m sure you are aware that your grandmother owned a cottage on Anglesey?”

Dominic swallows. “Yes, I am.”

“Excellent,” Baker replies. “As I explained previously, as her only living relative, the property along with all of her other belongings will fall to you, but there are just a few… administrative hurdles we will have to jump through first. Inheritance tax and suchlike. I would be grateful if you could meet with me or one of my colleagues at our office in Beaumaris, and we would offer to take you to visit the property at the same time.”

A jolt of anxiety rushes through Dominic at the solicitor’s words. “Er…” He clears his throat again, “I… I’m not sure I can…” he pauses, collects his thoughts, and continues, “I’m very busy with work at the moment, Mr Baker. I’m not certain I can get that much time off right now. Can’t we talk through what needs to be done over the phone, and then you can email me the documents?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Rook, but unfortunately that’s not an option. The signing of the documents needs to be witnessed, and I thought you might want to view the property as well while you’re here?”

Dominic heaves a deep sigh. “I… would love to, Mr Baker. But like I said—”

“Mr Rook, I’m sorry, but unfortunately there is no way around this. I’m sure if you explain to your work—”

“Yes, thank you,” Dominic bites out. “I will do that. I’ll speak to my workplace, and I will get back to you to arrange a date. How does that sound?”

“That seems fair,” Baker replies, and Dominic lets out a relieved breath. “I look forward to hearing from you soon, Mr Rook.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says, and ends the call.

The hand holding the phone drops down by his side, and his eyes come up to stare out at the waves once more as he is gripped by a profound sense of sadness and regret. Yes, his grandmother asked him to leave, didn’t want him to be there when she died. But there is still a part of him that thinks that he ran away when she needed him, and now he will never be able to make that up to her. Now, he wouldn’t even dare show himself to her, as he has become the very thing that she always sought to protect him from.

A quiet, shaky sob makes its way up from his lungs and out his mouth, and before he even knows what he is doing, his teeth have found their way into his wrist again, carrying on where he was so rudely interrupted earlier. As soon as he feels the blood on his tongue, the feeling of sadness and loss lessens to a more bearable level, and he closes his eyes and allows the red liquid to numb him until all he can feel is calm and peace.

***

Hal’s eyes anxiously scan the road for the bus shelter he remembers Dominic pointing out to him, the only other time he has ever been here. It is half a miracle he was even able to direct the cab driver as far as this, as consumed by anxiety as he had been that day in the car with Dominic. The cab driver’s proximity in the small space of the car doesn’t help, as Hal is all too aware of the man’s steady heartbeat and the smell of his blood – A positive? – filling the air around him. He holds his breath, only taking very sporadic breaths to not appear too unnatural as his eyes continue to scan the scenery. 

As soon as he locates the bus stop, his eyes are drawn to a light blue car parked in a lay-by a little further along the road, and he points and says, “There.”

The cab driver frowns at him. “You sure? Doesn’t look like there’s anything here.”

“I’m sure,” Hal says tensely. “That’s his car there. Just… let me out anywhere here, I can make my own way.” The cab driver shrugs, but pulls over and turns around to give Hal an expectant look. Hal pulls a few notes out of his wallet, not caring in the slightest how generous a tip he is leaving as he quickly says “Thanks” and gets out of the taxi. 

He doesn’t even wait for the car to leave, but gets moving straight away towards where Leo’s old Mercedes is parked, and from there he easily finds the overgrown path down to the beach while behind him, he can hear the cab pulling out and driving off down the deserted road back to Barry.

Hal walks along the narrow path, ducking out of the way of low-hanging tree branches, until he sees the path opening up towards the beach. He stands for a moment at the very edge of the trees, looking out onto the beach. There is an unmistakable set of footsteps in the wet sand, and Hal follows the trail towards the water’s edge, and then through the shallow water to the opening in the cliff wall, and he stops.

His eyes come up to the hunched figure in the cave, and his chest constricts when he takes in the sight of Dominic, his own wrist pressed against his mouth, fangs sunk deep into that soft pale skin that he knows so well. Everything about it just seems so _wrong_ , and Hal closes his eyes for a fraction of a second to get back his composure before he takes the remaining few steps through the water and enters the cave.

“That's not the solution,” he says quietly, and Dominic’s wrist drops away from his mouth as his head snaps up, red-rimmed blue eyes staring straight into his own.

“It was either that or the alternative,” Dominic says quietly, his eyes pointing to a dry old piece of wood lying next to him on the floor.

Hal’s eyes widen as they fall on the makeshift stake, and he takes a few swift steps towards it and picks it up.

“H—” Dominic starts, but Hal never even so much as acknowledges him as he walks straight over to the edge of the cave and throws the branch into the waves. It is only then that he turns around, nostrils flaring as his eyes pierce straight into Dominic’s. 

“No, Dominic,” he snaps, the pent-up tension of the last two hours finally getting the better of him. “Don’t…” he pauses, squeezes his eyes shut, “don't ever do that to me again, you hear me? I watched you die in front of me twice already, once of my own making, once of yours, but let me tell you that those were two of the most painful moments in my ridiculously long life, so… please, don’t. Not again. I can't… I can't lose you for good.” His eyes open once more, looking straight into Dominic’s. “Please.”

Dominic doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks back at him with those big blue eyes, pupils blown and glassy looking as they are. His lips and chin are smeared with blood, and something about it pains Hal more than he would like to admit, even as the monster inside of him feels more than a little aroused at the sight. 

He watches as Dominic’s tongue slips out and licks the blood off his lips, and Dominic averts his eyes and looks past Hal, out towards the sea. 

“You’re right,” he says quietly. “I already died twice. Three times, I guess, if you count the car crash, but technically I never actually… well, never mind, I digress.” He clears his throat, then continues, “You say that you can’t lose me again, but… is this really even me anymore?”

Hal’s brow creases, but his voice is soft and reassuring when he says, “Of course it is.”

Dominic takes a deep, shaky breath. “Then teach me, Hal,” he says. “Teach me how to go on from here without feeling so utterly sickened and disgusted by myself. Because let me tell you, I’ve never been as glad as I am right now that I can’t see my reflection, because this?” He looks back towards Hal with an ugly frown on his face and gestures up and down himself. “This is not something I would ever want to see.”

Hal takes another step closer to where Dominic is sitting, and he kneels down in front of him, careful not to invade his personal space. “Do you feel sickened and disgusted by me?” he asks.

Dominic gives him a sharp look. “No, of course not.”

Hal sighs. “Then you shouldn't feel that way about yourself, either,” he says calmly, eyes boring straight into Dominic’s. “We're the same now, you and I.”

Dominic heaves another ragged breath. “I… don’t know if I can accept that.”

“It’s the truth.”

Dominic is the first to look away, and his eyes flick down, looking into the small space between them on the cave floor. “I… still don’t know if… I guess… I guess, if you put it that way…” He pauses, sighs. “I guess I’ll have to accept it,” he finishes, so quietly that he is barely audible.

“Yes,” Hal agrees with a nod. 

Dominic is silent again for a long moment, staring into that empty space between them, and when his eyes do eventually come back up to meet Hal’s there is determination in them, and… hunger.

“Come here,” Dominic breathes, and Hal shuffles closer towards him on the hard rocky floor until there is barely an inch separating them. “I’m sorry,” Dominic adds, his hands reaching out to take hold of both of Hal’s. “I’m sorry for running away, and I’m sorry for… worrying you. And I’m sorry for being such a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Hal says, thumbs brushing up and down the backs of Dominic’s hands. They are so close that he can feel Dominic’s breath on his lips. “You have every right to be scared. We’ve all been there.”

Dominic pulls back a few inches and gives him a small, sad smile. “Yes, but the difference is that you _chose_ this for yourself. I…”

“ _You_ are a much better person than I ever was,” Hal says seriously, and Dominic lets out a soft laugh.

“I’m not—”

“By the time I was recruited, I… he…” he stops, swallows, then forces out, “ _we_ had lost all faith in the good of humanity.” He looks deeply into Dominic’s eyes as he continues, “You, on the other hand… you dedicated your whole _life_ to protecting humanity, to keeping them safe from us. Of course you would be scared of what you could become.”

“What I _have_ become,” Dominic tries to correct him, but Hal shakes his head.

“What you _could_ become. You’re one of the strongest people I have ever met, Dominic. If anyone can keep this curse under control, it’s you.”

Dominic lets out a quiet huff. “Thanks, I suppose, for having such faith in me. Unfortunately I don’t think I can quite share your optimism.”

Hal moves in closer again, so close, only a hair’s breadth between them. “Then allow me to do it for both of us,” he breathes.

He thinks he can hear Dominic reply “Okay”, but it’s so quiet that he can’t be sure, and he doesn’t get a chance to say anything more as Dominic finally leans in and closes the gap between them. Soft lips press against Hal’s with an urgency that takes his breath away. He eagerly reciprocates the kiss, and without his conscious input, his tongue slips out to lick away some of the half-dried blood from Dominic’s lips. Dominic sighs deeply, and Hal’s tongue, encouraged by the soft sound, probes further into Dominic’s mouth, where there is more of that delicious taste that, even though weak, is still so completely _Dominic._

He greedily explores the inside of Dominic’s mouth, until he comes up against something sharp, and he feels one of Dominic’s fangs piercing into his tongue before he has a chance to pull away. Dominic lets out a soft, low growl at the fresh influx of blood, and his own tongue laps against Hal’s to get more of that taste. 

Dominic’s hands let go of his own as they come up to open the buttons on his coat, and then on his shirt, until those same hands run up and down the naked skin of his chest. There is an icy wind blowing in from the sea, but he doesn’t care because there is a tingle under his skin that has nothing to do with the cold, and that is all that matters right now. _They_ are all that matters.

Their heated kiss continues as belts are undone and buttons and zips are opened, and soon they both sit across from each other in a downright obscene state of undress, with coats and shirts hanging open over naked chests, trousers open and underwear pushed down to reveal their hardening erections, close enough almost to touch. Dominic’s cool fingers wrap around his hard length, and Hal moans loudly into the other’s mouth. Dominic smiles against his lips until, a moment later, he mirrors Hal’s moan when Hal reaches out to return the favour. They build up a steady rhythm between them, perfectly in sync with each other, and Hal can feel his arousal growing at a frightening pace.

Dominic pulls back a fraction to take Hal’s bottom lip into his mouth, and Hal is all too aware of the sharp fangs teasing at his sensitive skin, but Dominic doesn’t bite down. Instead, with a smile, he pulls back, presses one more, almost chaste kiss to Hal’s lips before he moves down, into the crook of his neck, and sits for a long moment just resting his lips against Hal’s skin, even as his hand never strays from its tireless rhythm up and down Hal’s cock.

“It’s right here, isn’t it?” Dominic asks breathlessly, his lips tickling Hal’s skin as he speaks, and Hal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to not let himself be overwhelmed by the fresh, powerful surge of arousal that is running through him. It has been so long since he has been with another vampire, he has almost forgotten what it was like.

“Yes,” he breathes, then clears his throat and says, louder, “Dominic.”

Dominic pauses, his hand on him stills, and he lifts his head slightly away from Hal’s neck. “Yes?”

Hal swallows and brings up his free hand to hook under the blond man’s chin and make him look up at him. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, a small crease in his brow. “What I mean is, are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s just… I don’t want you running off again in a minute’s time because you’re having second thoughts.”

Dominic looks back at him with a serious, thoughtful expression for what seems to Hal’s aroused and intoxicated brain like minutes, but probably isn’t more than a few seconds. Finally, Dominic gives him a tiny, brisk nod. “I’m sure, Hal,” he says, then takes a deep breath and continues, “I’ve done all my running and doubting and having second thoughts. I… I’m tired, Hal. I’m tired of fighting this, denying what I am. I… I just want…” he trails off, but Hal doesn’t feel like he needs to hear anymore.

“Okay,” he whispers, with another small nod, and the expression in Dominic’s eyes is so full of love all of a sudden that it takes his breath away.

“Thank you,” Dominic breathes against his lips, leaning in for another quick kiss before he moves his mouth back down into the crook of his neck. His hand starts moving on Hal’s erection again, and the feeling distracts him to the point where he almost doesn’t notice the fangs piercing his skin, or the needy little whimper that escapes Dominic’s lips, reverberating against the skin of his neck as he starts sucking on the vein. But he does notice it, and it makes a pleasant shiver run down his spine and his cock twitch in Dominic’s grip. 

“Dominic,” he gasps, not a request this time, just an acknowledgement, a term of endearment, but Dominic still pulls away from his neck, all big blue eyes and blood-smeared lips as he looks back at Hal, and now, with the feeling of Dominic’s hand on his cock and the lingering sting of fresh puncture marks in his skin, he is quite sure that it is the most arousing thing he has ever seen. “My God, you’re so beautiful,” Hal chokes out, feeling himself nearing the point of no return.

“Oh, Hal,” Dominic moans, sounding equally as breathless, and Hal’s eyes involuntarily flick down to Dominic’s mouth as he speaks, and before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses him, and once again shares the taste of the blood on his lips, in his mouth, and someone is moaning again, but he doesn’t know which one of them it is as they are basically one now, hands moving in perfect synchrony, bringing each other closer, closer, until, as one, with another broken moan and a “Hal” and a “Love you,” they spill their loads across each other’s hands and stomachs, mouths still dancing against each other, sharing the last remnants of blood on Dominic’s tongue.

They are both breathing heavily as they pull away, hands letting go of each other as they each awkwardly fumble for handkerchiefs, quickly cleaning themselves off before their eyes meet again, and there is an understanding between them in that gaze that Hal hasn’t felt since that fateful night.

“Hal,” Dominic says again, so very quietly, and Hal can see his eyelids drooping over glassy, unfocused blue eyes.

He gives him a soft smile. “Tired?” he asks, realising only then that he himself is feeling about ready to drop after his night shift and the commotion that followed.

Dominic smiles back at him and nods. “Exhausted.”

Hal bites his lip as he takes a look around the cave, the hard, rocky ground not exactly inviting, but at the same time… it is remote, it is safe, and it is _where they are,_ so…

“How about we go for a nap?” he suggests, not expecting the sheer relief in Dominic’s eyes he is greeted with in return.

“Yes, please.”

They lie down on the cold floor, Hal spooning behind Dominic in an almost exact reenactment of the first time they came here together, and Hal lets out a soft sigh into Dominic’s hair. 

He can feel himself drift off to sleep when Dominic’s soft voice pulls him back to reality. “It’s the blood, isn’t it? It’s making me sleepy.”

Hal nods against Dominic’s head. “Yes, it is.”

“Hmm, I ‘member, ‘cause it always used t’do the same t’you,” Dominic mumbles, and Hal can’t help but smile at the way he slurs his words.

“Yes, it does. Now go to sleep, okay?” he prompts, pressing a gentle kiss into Dominic’s hair. 

“‘Kay,” Dominic replies. The word is followed by a long silence, and Hal half thinks he has actually gone to sleep, when Dominic’s voice rings out again, almost too quiet to hear. “You too.”

And somehow, Hal knows that it isn’t a response to the last thing he said, but to something else he said, earlier, something that Dominic has found impossible to reply to ever since that night. 

And he smiles like an idiot as he settles down, his nose buried in the soft hairs at the back of Dominic’s head, and he allows sleep to finally take over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for the cottage the solicitor is talking about in this chapter is taken from [this cottage](https://goo.gl/maps/t7aoH8VPeP2Ea7AXA) on the coast of Anglesey (link to Google Maps - do yourselves a favour and have a look at the view, it's stunning!). It's called "Pig y Bioden", which translates to "Beak of the Magpie". Not quite Rook, but at least it's the same family :)


	13. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I am soooo sorry for the long wait. I've been quite unwell for the last few weeks, and I've been struggling to get any writing done whatsoever as a result. I am on the mend now, even though I'm still a long way from being back to normal, and I've finally got this chapter to a point where I felt happy enough to post it. 
> 
> This chapter is completely not what I had originally envisaged. I blame the weird weather recently. It basically forced its way into the story and made me write an additional scene that grew to pretty much _be_ the chapter. Expect fluff, smut, fluffy smut, and bad humour.
> 
> Enjoy!

Wasting on nothing  
Effortlessly you appear  
Sound of the thunder  
Reverberate in your ear  
This is a slow dance  
This is a chance to transform  
Pause for the silence  
Inhabit the calm of the storm

\- Editors, “Ocean of Night”

 

A glaring beam of light appears out of nowhere, painting the insides of his eyelids a bright red and making his eyes sting and water without even opening them. Dominic lets out an involuntary wince and makes the mistake of blinking against the sting, and the intensity of the light is almost blinding him, so he quickly closes them again. 

He feels an arm tightening around his midriff and allows himself to lean back into the body behind him, and he feels tendrils of moist air tickling the back of his neck. A deep sense of calm seems to have settled into his body in the absence of the familiar gnawing hunger.

Slowly, he becomes aware of the hard rocky floor digging into his right hip, thigh and shoulder, and he stirs slightly to relieve the pressure on those areas, but without opening his eyes again as the light seems to still be just as vicious as before.

“Are you okay?” Hal asks quietly behind him. There is no trace of sleep left in his voice, and Dominic silently wonders how long he has been awake for.

“Yes, just… what’s going on with the light?” he asks.

Hal chuckles. “That’s why they call us nocturnal,” he says, a smile in his voice. “We’re generally not very good with sunlight.”

Dominic frowns. “That’s just regular sunlight?” he asks, and he can feel Hal nod against him I reply. “But I’ve never noticed you having any problems with it. Or any other vampire, for that matter.”

“As I’ve told you before, I’ve got used to it.”

Dominic thinks about that for a moment, then gives a small nod. “There’s still hope for me then.”

The smile is back in Hal’s voice when he says, “Yes, there is. If you’re willing to give it a try.”

Dominic sighs. “I thought I’d already told you as much.”

“Yes, but you were… shall we say, under the influence at the time,” Hal says seriously, and Dominic tenses at the implication of his words. Hal, obviously sensing the change, presses a gentle kiss into his hair, and his hand lightly caresses Dominic’s clothed stomach. “It’s okay, really. Vampire blood… shouldn’t give you the same cravings as human blood would, so you should be absolutely fine going back to your abstinent ways if you so choose.”

“Really?” he chokes out, and he can feel Hal’s forehead brushing against him as he nods. 

“Really.”

“You could have told me that before I ran off in a panic this morning, thinking I’d doomed myself to a lifetime of blood consumption, don’t you think?” Dominic asks, accusation creeping into his voice even as he feels a powerful wave of relief running through him.

Hal sighs. “You didn’t give me much of a chance, and I wasn’t exactly unaffected at that point either.”

Dominic’s fingers brush against the back of Hal’s hand on his stomach. “So it does still affect you? I… when I first asked you to… you know…” he trails off for a moment, and Hal chuckles.

“You didn’t have any problems telling me exactly what you wanted this morning.”

Dominic feels the ghost of blush rising into his cheeks, courtesy of the new, stolen blood that now flows through his veins. “I thought you like it when I’m direct,” he mumbles.

Hal laughs again. “You must mistake me for the other Hal,” he quips, but Dominic immediately recognises the slightly tense edge in his voice that Hal is trying very hard to hide. “I know we pretty much look the same, but that’s where the similarities end.”

“My apologies,” Dominic says with a soft smile. “How is he, anyway? We haven’t spoken for a while.”

“He’s just fine,” Hal says tersely.

“Well, tell him I said hello the next time you speak to him,” he says, and his smile turns a little bit sad when he adds, “I understand that he has probably lost interest in me, now that my blood is kind of past its use by date.”

Something about what he said must have struck a nerve with Hal, because he can feel him tense and shuffle away from him slightly on the stony floor. 

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” he asks.

Hal is quiet for a moment, before he clears his throat and replies, “No, you didn’t. I just… I don’t like talking about… him. And you. It still… it makes me uncomfortable.” He leans back in then, lightly nuzzles into Dominic’s neck. “Do you remember, the last time we came here, and we were lying here exactly like this? Do you remember what I said to you?”

Of course he remembers. It may feel like it was several lifetimes ago, with everything that has happened since, but he still remembers it like it was yesterday, the feeling of Hal’s wet tongue on his skin, lapping away stray drops of blood. Dominic feels a shiver running through him, whether from Hal’s touch or the memory, he isn’t sure. “You said that I was yours,” he says breathlessly, feeling Hal press a feather-light kiss to his skin.

“That’s right,” Hal confirms. “And do you remember what you said?”

Dominic lets out a soft sigh. “Always,” he says.

Hal places another kiss against his skin. “Always,” he repeats, and then, “Mine. Not his.”

“Hal—” Dominic starts, but Hal doesn’t let him continue.

“I know what you’re going to say. That he’s part of me. And perhaps that’s true. But if so, then he is a part that I no longer want anything to do with. Like a… science experiment gone wrong. He’s… not what he was sup—” He suddenly breaks off, and Dominic starts, his eyes widening.

“Hal?”

“It’s nothing, forget it,” Hal says firmly.

Dominic shakes his head. “No. You were going to say ‘not what he was supposed to be’, weren’t you? What did you m—”

“Dominic, please, don’t,” Hal pleads, nuzzling back into the back of his neck. “I’m not ready for that conversation.” He pauses, then adds, “I’m not sure if I ever will be.”

Dominic lets out a heavy sigh. “All right. For now.”

“Thank you. You’re amazing,” Hal says, and despite everything, Dominic smiles.

“And don’t you ever forget it.”

Hal barks out a laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“Mmmh, good,” Dominic says, snuggling further into Hal’s embrace, and then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the bright light that has been tormenting him subsides, and he feels his facial muscles relaxing. “What happened to the sun now?” he asks, and carefully blinks a few times before opening his eyes only a tiny fraction.

He can hear Hal smiling again when he says, “They’re called clouds. Occasionally they move in to block the sun. You may have come across them before.”

Dominic huffs. “Very funny.”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Hal says, the arm around him pulling him even closer against him as he lifts his head and places a soft peck on the very edge of Dominic’s mouth. “You would’ve thought the blood has fried your brain or something. ‘What happened to the sun’ indeed.”

Dominic can’t help the small laugh that escapes him. He opens his eyes a bit wider, and it’s still bright, but it’s tolerable now. Then his thoughts are drawn to one small part of what Hal has said, and the laughter sticks in his throat. 

“It was incredible,” he whispers, forcing the words out against his better judgement, because he doesn’t _want_ to speak them, but he knows it is the truth. 

Hal doesn’t immediately reply, just holds him steadily against him, and Dominic carefully turns around in his embrace and squints to take in the other’s face. He is greeted by warm hazel eyes, not a hint of disappointment or disapproval or any of the other things in them that he knows he shouldn’t expect, but part of him thinks he _deserves_ anyway. 

“It can’t be as good for you though,” he adds, frowning slightly. “I mean, compared to… what you must be used to…”

Hal brings up a hand to brush against the side of his face. “Dominic,” he starts, “This… us… when we’re together, it isn’t… it _shouldn’t_ be all about the blood. I know you used to think that it was for me—” 

“Hal, no,” Dominic protests, but Hal quickly shakes his head.

“I know you did. And… I don’t blame you for thinking it, even though I want you to understand that it was never true.” Dominic gives him a dubious look, and Hal sighs, a tiny, crooked smile playing at the very corners of his mouth as he adds, “I’m not saying it does nothing for me.” Dominic feels a small smile flit across his own lips, half playful and half embarrassed, and Hal smirks. “Fine, yes, it makes it more enjoyable, for sure,” he admits. “But it isn’t all it is about.”

Dominic lets out a breathless chuckle. “At least you’re honest.”

“Of course,” Hal says, and leans in to lightly brush his lips against Dominic’s. Dominic kisses him back slowly, languidly, reflecting the deep sense of calm he feels after their earlier encounter. 

Dominic hums quietly into the kiss, and he can feel Hal smile against him. “Hal,” he starts, but soon finds himself lost in the kiss again. Hal lightly nibbles at his bottom lip, and he can feel himself growing aroused again already. “Hal,” he tries again, slightly louder this time, and Hal pulls back to allow him to continue, “we should probably—”

The rest of the sentence is drowned out by a booming rumble in the sky, and not a second later, the heavens open, and Dominic’s eyes widen as he sits up and looks out at the curtain of rain falling outside the cave entrance, almost like a waterfall obscuring them from the outside world. The sound of raindrops hitting the waves and the cliff wall is deafening.

He is vaguely aware of Hal sitting up behind him, and the next moment, a chin lands on his shoulder, and a hand snakes around his side and settles against his stomach. “Did you say something about leaving?” Hal asks lightly.

Dominic shakes his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle outside, where dark grey clouds are now completely obscuring the sun and sheets of rain are illuminated for seconds at a time by bright purple lightning bolts. “Maybe not,” he says breathlessly.

“No,” Hal replies in a matter-of-fact voice. “Doesn’t sound like the best idea, does it?”

Dominic snorts. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” He pauses, frowns. “And today, of course, I didn’t bring any food.”

Hal presses a kiss to his shoulder and says, in a deadly serious tone, “That depends on your point of view.”

Dominic’s breath catches in his throat. “Hal… no. Not… not again so soon. I…” He turns his head to look at Hal, and is taken by surprise by the unexpected intensity in his gaze. “I did say I wanted to take it slow,” he finishes.

Hal gives him a long, hard look with those mesmerising hazel eyes, and every second of it, Dominic can feel the heat inside of him growing, melting his resolve. And Hal knows exactly what he is doing, Dominic thinks, even as he eventually moves back a few inches, shrugs and says, “If you’re sure.”

And Dominic, before he can stop himself, croaks out, “I’m not.” Hal lifts his eyebrows at him, and he clears his throat and adds, “I’m not sure, Hal. I just… I don’t think it would be a good idea… One of us is going to have to drive…”

Hal lets out a short laugh. “ _That_ is what you’re worried about?”

“Amongst other things,” Dominic says, frowning. 

And Hal, to Dominic’s chagrin, smiles brightly at him, moves in to lightly peck the frown line between his brows, and says, “God, you’re cute.”

Dominic’s frown, if anything, deepens. “I am not—”

Hal shuts him up with a kiss, and what a kiss it is as well. Dominic once again feels his resolve drift away, along with his annoyance, as he melts into that kiss. 

_I guess we don’t have anything better to do,_ he thinks, listening to the rumbling thunder outside as his hands snake around Hal’s waist, pulling him closer, and now it is his turn to pull the other’s bottom lip in between his teeth. Hal moans quietly into his mouth as Dominic nibbles his lip, careful not to break skin, just teasing, because two can play that game. He lets go of Hal’s lip again, pulls back and looks into his face.

And maybe it is his new, vampiric vision, Dominic thinks, or maybe the eerie light cast by the bright flashes of lightning in the sky, broken up and refracted by millions of raindrops. Or maybe it is the elusive bond that connects them. Maybe it is a combination of them all. But whatever the reason, fact is that Hal has never looked more beautiful to him than he does in that moment. His throat constricts as he stares at him, as he watches Hal’s brow furrow ever so slightly in a silent question, before the very corners of his lips lift up in a hint of a smile. 

“What?” Hal asks, and Dominic swallows. 

“I’m just admiring the view,” he breathes, never taking his eyes off Hal, who lets out a quiet chuckle.

“I think the blood really has fried your brain,” he says, a teasing smile on his lips that matches the tone of his voice. “The sea is that way,” he continues, nodding towards the cave entrance.

Dominic swiftly shakes his head. “I wasn’t talking about the sea.”

“Oh no?” Hal asks, lifting his eyebrows at him. That teasing smile is still on his lips, and Dominic feels himself being drawn in again, closer, until he can almost feel Hal’s soft lips against his own.

“No,” he whispers, and then he kisses Hal again, slowly, tenderly, and he feels Hal’s hand cradle the back of his neck as he kisses him back, gentle fingers caressing him as around them, the storm rages on. 

Dominic’s own hands encircle Hal’s waist, lightly brushing up and down his back, and everything about this feels so different to the hasty, rushed, blood-drunk fumble they shared only a few short hours ago. Now, every movement is conscious, slow, deliberate, and he lets out a ragged sigh as Hal’s hands come around and reach for the topmost button on his coat. Hal pulls back a few inches to throw him a questioning look. Dominic gives him a small nod in reply, and Hal doesn’t need telling twice as he starts to undress him, slowly, patiently, until Dominic finds himself lying topless in a carefully arranged nest of discarded clothes, with Hal, equally topless, straddling his hips.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as Hal leans down and presses a kiss to the very base of his throat, right between his collarbones. From there, Hal’s mouth moves downwards, leaving a damp trail of kisses in its wake that make goosebumps rise on his skin. When he reaches his right nipple, Hal’s tongue slips out, teasing at the sensitive spot before he nips it with his teeth, ever so lightly, but it is enough to make Dominic’s stomach flutter wildly and his cock twitch against the restraints of his trousers. 

“Mmmh, Hal,” he gasps. “Do that again.”

And Hal, with a bright smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes Dominic choke out a breathless laugh, goes to work on his other nipple, licking, sucking, biting, until it all gets too much for Dominic and he lets out a loud groan that is almost completely drowned out by another deafening thunder reverberating around the cave. 

Dominic lets his head fall to the side to watch the spectacular storm outside, the waves growing higher and actually splashing up into the cave now, with water slowly accumulating at the cave entrance. Where they are, luckily, is a fair bit higher up and has as yet not been reached by the water.

Any further thoughts of the storm are cut short by Hal, who at that moment is dipping his tongue into his belly button, causing an electric current to run straight into his groin, and he moans loudly even as Hal’s fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt and trousers, swiftly pulling them down. Then he sits up and lets his eyes roam over Dominic’s naked form in a way that still makes him feel more than a little self-conscious, even after all their time together, not least because of the new, exaggerated paleness of his skin that is so much more pronounced in him than he has ever noticed it in Hal, that makes his veins stand out purple and blue like a roadmap.

“No,” Hal says huskily, “You’re perfect.”

Dominic’s breath catches in his throat as he can’t help but think, _Did he just read my thoughts?_ But he doesn’t dare ask the question, doesn’t know if he even wants to know the answer. 

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbles instead, but Hal doesn’t reply as he leans back in and kisses another trail right down the centre of his chest while his fingers wrap themselves around his hard length, slowly stroking up and down, and Dominic can feel his breaths becoming faster and shallower with every second as his arousal builds. 

Then Hal’s mouth descends on his cock, tongue circling around the tip once, then licking all the way down to the base and back up again before his lips enclose him. He looks down to where Hal is slowly moving down his length until all of it is engulfed in his warm, wet mouth, and Dominic whimpers helplessly as his fangs break through. He blinks, and the cave suddenly lights up around him despite the black clouds still obscuring the sun. Hal’s eyes flick up to him then, meeting his own black ones, and for a moment, Dominic wants to shut them, to hide them away. 

But what he sees in Hal’s eyes is nothing but acceptance and love, interspersed with no small amount of lust, and he swallows down the lump that has formed in his throat and lets out a shaky breath that transforms into another broken whimper as Hal starts bobbing up and down his hard length, building up a rhythm.

Dominic’s hands fly out helplessly, one of them landing at the back of Hal’s head, gently carding through his short hair, while the other comes to lie on Hal’s left knee, caressing him through the thick fabric of his dark jeans. Then, through the thick fog of arousal, a thought enters his mind, and he clears his throat loudly and says, “Hal.”

“Mmmh?” Hal hums around his cock, the vibration sending a shiver through him that makes him thrust up hard into Hal’s mouth, just once, before he can stop himself. Hal, clearly taken by surprise, lets out a small laugh that comes out as more of a snort with his lips still firmly closed around Dominic’s erection.

“Sorry,” Dominic mutters, gathering all the self-control he can muster to keep himself still, to allow Hal to continue at his own pace. Then he remembers what he had started to say before, and he chokes out, “What about you?” And Hal, never stopping his rhythmic movement up and down his cock, reaches down, opens his own trousers and takes himself into his own hand. But Dominic finds that he is desperate to touch, to bring Hal over the edge himself, and he shakes his head and gasps, “No.”

Hal lifts his head to look at him, a small frown building on his face. “You want me to stop?”

Dominic shakes his head again. “No,” he repeats. “I want to touch you.”

And Hal, clearly understanding what he is trying to say, shifts further up his legs until his cock brushes against Dominic’s, and Dominic reaches out and encloses both of them with his hand while the other hand pulls Hal down towards him again for a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Hal’s fangs have descended as well, and somehow, somewhere, someone’s skin is broken, and both of their mouths are flooded with blood. Dominic moans against Hal’s mouth as he laps it up greedily, all the while his hand strokes up and down both of their erections, pressing them against each other, creating delicious friction, and he can feel them both twitch within his grasp as he brings them ever closer to completion.

“Fuck, Dominic,” Hal gasps as he pulls away and buries his head into Dominic’s shoulder, and Dominic smiles impishly.

“Can’t do that, I’m afraid,” he says, “Didn’t bring anything for that.”

Hal lets out a breathless laugh that disintegrates into a broken moan the next moment as Hal’s cock gives one more powerful twitch before he comes hard all over Dominic’s naked stomach and chest, and Dominic is not far behind him as a moment later, he lets go with deep moan of his own. His hand falls away from their softening cocks as Hal collapses on top of him, completely spent and boneless, snuggling into his shoulder. Dominic smiles and presses a kiss into Hal’s damp hair.

They lie in silence for a long time, basking in the afterglow, lazy hands brushing over sweat-damp skin, and for once there is no hunger, no pain, no disgust or shame, there is just them, and it feels _right_ , just the way it always used to feel.

“Maybe you’re right,” Dominic mumbles against Hal’s temple, and Hal gives a noncommittal hum in response. “Maybe I really am still me, and this… this is just another shot I was given at life by…” he pauses, clears his throat, then finishes, “by the person I love most in the world.”

Hal is silent for a long time following his words, and Dominic feels the faintest of blushes creeping into his cheeks when he realises how cheesy what he just said must have sounded to Hal. But then he feels Hal’s lips press a gentle kiss to the crook of his neck, before he quietly says, “Thank you.”

Dominic gives a small, melancholic smile. “Don’t thank me quite yet. People say a lot of things after just having had amazing sex. And… blood.” He stops, swallows. “So how does that work then? I could have as much vampire blood as I wanted, and it wouldn’t make the cravings worse?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure, with you,” Hal says seriously. “For one thing, the way you reacted to the vampire blood was… unexpected. Different. _You’re_ different.”

Dominic feels a slight frown forming on his brow, but he doesn’t allow it to settle, doesn’t allow those doubts to cloud this perfect moment. Instead, he smiles and says, “Are you saying I’m special?”

He can feel Hal’s own lips forming a smile against the skin of his neck. “Of course you are. You’re mine.”

Dominic lets out a quiet chuckle. “Yes, indeed, Mr Yorke. Oldest of all living vampires.”

Hal huffs. “I suppose I am, aren’t I?” he says, as if it has only just occurred to him. “If only by some fifty years or so.”

“I love how being so old has changed your perception of time,” Dominic says with a small shake of his head. “Fifty years is longer than I’ve been alive.” He pauses, then, in a very quiet voice, continues, “I still can’t really get my head around what it must be like, to be immortal. To just… continue on exactly as you are, for all eternity.”

“I guess you’ll find out,” Hal says, pressing another kiss into the space just underneath his earlobe. 

Dominic can’t stop his brow from furrowing slightly as he replies, “I guess I will.” Silence falls again following his statement, and Dominic once again looks over to the entrance of the cave, where the heavy rain has eased somewhat, only a light spray now, and the heavy black clouds have made way for lighter grey ones, interspersed here and there by slivers of blue sky. 

The silence is interrupted once again by the sound of a phone ringing, and Dominic barely suppresses a groan as he blindly reaches out and searches through the pile of clothes they are lying on, until his hand closes around the familiar shape of the Blackberry, and he lifts it to his ear.

He doesn’t even get a chance to say ‘Hello’ before Alex’s panicked voice sounds through the receiver, “Hal, for fuck’s sake, where are you? What’s going on? You just disappeared, and it’s been _hours_ , and you didn’t tell me where you went, or what you were doing, and you’re not answering your phone, and I’ve been sitting here, worried si—”

“Alex!” Dominic all but yells, interrupting her frantic tirade. He takes a deep breath and adds, “He’s all right, Alex. He’s with me.”

“Dominic?” she asks. 

He chuckles. “Yes, it’s me. Don’t worry about us, we’re okay.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex says, letting out a deep breath. There is a short pause, and her voice sounds suspicious when she adds, “Hold on. Why are you answering Hal’s phone?” Dominic feels a slow grin spread across his lips as he can practically hear Alex’s thoughts across the phone line. “Okay, never mind. I don’t wanna know.”

“It sounds to me like you already do,” Dominic says, and he laughs as he can hear Alex groan on the other end. His eyes find Hal’s, who has lifted himself up on one elbow and is looking at him with raised eyebrows. 

“It’s Alex,” he says, earning himself an eye roll from Hal.

“Yeah, I kind of gathered that.”

“Right, well,” Alex continues, while Dominic follows Hal’s gaze towards the cave entrance, where the rain seems to have stopped completely now. “I’m just gonna leave you guys to it. Looks like you don’t really need my help, so…”

“Thank you for checking, Alex,” Dominic says. “We’ll be on our way back soon.”

“Okay, cool. I’m, erm… I’m gonna see you later then,” she says. 

Dominic quickly says his goodbyes, then puts the phone back down on the floor next to him. They lie in silence again for a long moment, Hal’s left hand drawing idle circles across his exposed stomach. Dominic looks down at Hal’s hand for a moment, then up at the other’s face, and his brow furrows. “Perhaps we should make our way back. The rain seems to have stopped.” He pauses, bites his lip. “I don’t even know what time it is, but we’ve been here for quite a while.”

Hal nods and starts to slowly extract himself from Dominic. “You’re right. We should go home.”

They quietly gather their rumpled clothes off the floor and throw them back on, and at some point, Hal reaches out his hand, takes hold of his own, and Dominic allows him to lead him through the shallow water, across the beach and through the woods, until they reach the old blue Mercedes parked in the lay-by. 

Hal turns around to him with a frown. “Next time you want to borrow my car, do it when you’re not off your head on blood, okay?” he says in a stern tone that is betrayed by the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. 

Dominic gives him a mock-serious look and a curt nod. “No drink-driving in Hal’s car. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“Good boy,” Hal says with a bright smile, and Dominic groans.

“Oh… no, Hal, please don’t.”

Hal doesn’t respond, just smiles and winks at him before he lets himself into the driver’s seat of the car, and Dominic freezes in place for a moment, staring at where Hal was standing only a moment ago. That smile… He quickly shakes his head and glides into the passenger seat, a slow frown forming on his face.

“Hal?” he asks, turning towards him as Hal starts up the engine.

“Hmm?” Hal replies, giving him a fleeting glance before he looks back out the windscreen and gets the car moving.

“I just thought… no, never mind.”

He can see Hal frown, even as he doesn’t take his eyes off the road in front of him. “What?” he asks, sounding bemused and a little bit concerned, but one hundred percent _Hal_.

Dominic swallows and shakes his head. “No, nothing. Forget it.” For a moment, Hal looks like he is about to press the issue further, but then appears to change his mind, and returns his full attention to the road again.

Dominic sits and looks out the passenger window for a long time, watching the world go by with the eyes of a creature that has never seen it quite like this before, because everything looks _different_ to him now – brighter, sharper, more colourful. Even without the black eyes. 

It is fascinating as much as it is disconcerting, and Dominic, with the help of the blood in his veins keeping him calm and centred, allows the fascination to take over for once, the bright green fields, the small herd of sheep in the distance that to any other onlooker would look just like a blur of small white specs. He can see every tuft of wool on their bodies, the glistening drops of water that stand on their impenetrable coats, keeping them warm and dry inside even after a storm like they just endured. The way the drops of water reflect the rays of sunlight falling on them, making them shine like diamonds on the white backdrop, is utterly beautiful.

“You okay?” Hal’s voice drifts over from the driver’s seat, and he turns around to see the other giving him an apprehensive look. 

He smiles. “Yes, I’m fine. Just… trying to see the positives.”

Hal gives him a dubious look, but nods all the same. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“Yes,” he replies with a nod of his own. Hal looks back to the road, and silence falls once more. 

Dominic’s eyes roam back over the landscape as they are making their way into a more built-up area, and now they fall on a young woman walking beside a small child on a bright pink bicycle. The bike is swaying dangerously despite the stabilisers holding it in place. Dominic chuckles quietly as he watches them for a moment, until he feels a flicker of hunger erupt deep inside his stomach and quickly turns away from the scene. 

He takes a deep breath as in his mind’s eye, the face of the young woman is suddenly replaced by another, more familiar one, and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, but the image won’t fade, and with it comes another thought that he has been trying not think about too much in the last few days.

“Tasha has asked me to be her baby’s godfather,” he says quietly, turning towards Hal.

“That’s wonderful,” Hal says, eyes flicking towards him with a small smile on his lips. “I take it you agreed?”

“I…” Dominic drifts off, thinks back to that day, to sitting in the kitchen and putting ninety-five percent of his energy into not ripping her throat out while trying to keep the remaining five percent focused on the conversation. “I suppose I did.”

“Good,” Hal says with a nod.

Dominic frowns. “I’m not so sure about that, Hal. I mean, the baby is going to be human, isn’t it?” Then his frown deepens when another thought occurs to him, and he repeats, “Isn’t it?”

Hal gives him a sharp look. “You mean because of Tom?”

Dominic nods. “Yes.”

He can feel Hal hesitate before he answers. “I… suppose so, yes. Werewolves are made, not born. I mean, even Eve was…” he pauses, clears his throat, “she was human. And _both_ of her parents were werewolves.”

Dominic hums in acknowledgement, thinking about Hal’s words for a long moment.

“Dominic?” Hal asks then, and Dominic’s head snaps up.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you want us to tell Tom?” Hal asks. “You were adamant that it wasn’t the right time, even as she is clearly already starting to show. Why?”

Dominic sighs. “I… don’t know if I can tell you,” he says. “I promised Tasha—”

“She cheated on Tom?” Hal asks, a hard edge creeping into his voice, and Dominic quickly shakes his head, a surge of anger coursing through him at the accusation.

“No, Hal, she didn’t,” he snaps.

Hal turns towards him at the unexpected outburst, his eyes warm and apologetic as they gaze into his own. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made assumptions.” Then his brow furrows as he asks, “But why, then? I know it wasn’t planned, but knowing Tom, he would be over the moon…” he drifts off, a painful expression on his face as Dominic chokes out a laugh.

“Bad pun, Hal,” he says, and Hal nods.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Hal agrees, shaking his head, then sobers up and adds, “You still haven’t answered my question though.”

Dominic heaves another deep sigh. “All right,” he says. “The reason she didn’t want to tell him is because she… isn’t sure who the father is.” Hal opens his mouth to speak, likely to go back to his previous point, and Dominic gives a curt shake of his head and continues, “She doesn’t know, because, as you pointed out, she is already a fair way along in the pregnancy. Which means, when the baby was actually conceived, she was still… well.” He gives Hal a significant look that he hopes conveys enough meaning for him not to have to spell it out to him. 

Hal frowns. “I didn’t realise you knew about that.”

Dominic swallows and looks away. “I wish I didn’t, but there we are.”

Hal is quiet for a long moment, and Dominic turns back towards him to see him deep in thought, a faraway look in his eyes and a small crease in his brow, and Dominic has a sudden, unbidden flashback to a pretty brunette woman in a low-cut maroon dress, a teasing smile on her lips and a promise in her eyes as she slowly looks him up and down.

_“Hello there, sir, can I help you?”_

Dominic swiftly shakes his head to clear it. He does _not_ want to think about that. He should never have brought this up, it was thoughtless and stupid and—

“Here we are,” Hal says, and the car slows down to a halt. Dominic looks up with a start, recognising the old B&B rising up in front of them. He hadn’t realised they were already here.

“Indeed,” he breathes, swallowing thickly. It’s just as well, he thinks. That conversation was not headed anywhere good.

They get out of the car, and Hal’s hand is straight back in his own as they make their way up the path. The front door opens before they even reach it, and Alex rushes out and envelopes both of them in a hug before either of them knows what is happening.

“Shit, guys, don’t do this to me,” she says, her voice muffled as her face is buried in Hal’s left shoulder. Then she pulls back and gives Dominic a scrutinising look. “You okay?” she asks, and he has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He has been asked that question rather a lot already today.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving her a small, strained smile.

“You sure?” Alex asks with a slight frown.

Dominic feels Hal give his hand a little squeeze, and he looks up to see him smiling at him. 

“Yes,” he says, not breaking eye contact with Hal even as he is addressing Alex. “I’m all right, thank you.”

He can hear Alex snort next to him. “Fair enough.” He turns back towards her as they start walking towards the door. “Cup of tea anyone?” she asks.

“I’d love one, Alex, thank you,” he says, looking towards Hal.

“Not for me, I’m afraid,” Hal says as they come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve got to go and wash the filth of that cave off my skin.”

“Cave?” Alex asks, at the same time as Dominic blurts out, “Filth?”

Hal looks back and forth between them for a moment, then leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to Dominic’s lips. “You know what I mean,” he whispers almost too quietly to hear, and Dominic feels flickers of heat rising into his cheeks. “See you in a bit.”

And with that, Hal is gone, and Dominic is faced with Alex’s big, disbelieving eyes boring into him. “Cave?” she repeats, and he swallows.

“Yes. That’s where I went. Long story.”

Alex raises her eyebrows. “Well, seeing as we’re both pretty much immortal, I don’t think there’s too much of a problem with a long story.”

Dominic sighs deeply and follows the ghost into the kitchen, and he frowns as Alex reaches for the kettle. “Let me do that,” he says, gesturing for her to have a seat at the table. “You don’t even drink it, I’m not expecting you to make it for me.”

He makes a quick cup of Ceylon for himself, and one for Alex, because he knows she likes the feeling of it between her fingers just as much as he does. Then he sits down at the table across from her, expecting her to press on with questions about the cave.

The more surprised is he when he sees the teasing smile playing on her lips as she opens her mouth and says, “So, I understand you’ve lost your… vampire virginity today?”

Dominic’s eyes widen, and he feels another faint blush appearing in his pale cheeks. “How did you know?” he asks.

Alex raises her eyebrows at him. “I saw the bite marks,” she says, lifting her wrist to indicate the location of said bite marks. 

Dominic’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes fixed on Alex’s wrist, his right hand reaching to fidget with his left shirt sleeve. He is wearing long sleeves. How could she possibly have seen…? And anyway, that was hours ago, the marks should really have faded by now. 

“On Hal’s wrist?” she clarifies then, and Dominic lets out a deep, relieved breath, even as he inwardly kicks himself. _Of course_ that is what she is talking about.

“Oh, those,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but Alex’s eyes narrow nonetheless.

“Yes, _those_. Which other bite marks were there?” 

And Dominic, ever ready to improvise, a skill that has come in very handy in his line of work, doesn’t say another word, but lets a small smirk settle on his lips and raises his eyebrows at her. 

Alex swallows and her eyes widen. “On second thought, don’t answer that question.”

Dominic lets out a low chuckle. “Fair enough, I won’t.”

“So, anyway,” Alex says loudly, “Vampire virginity.”

Immediately, Dominic can feel himself blushing again, and he looks down at the cup of tea between his hands. “I guess, if you want to call it that,” he says with a small shrug. And he doesn’t know if it is the last remnants of the blood rush, or the thrill of having actually got through to Alex with his teasing for once, but whatever it is, his mouth opens again, he looks straight into her eyes, and he says, “But then again, I did lose my actual virginity to him, so I suppose it is only fitting.”

Alex stares at him for a long moment, eyes impossibly wide, clearly at a loss of how to respond to that. “You… did?” she asks eventually, only to earn herself an eye roll and snort.

“You do realise it’s rude to stare, don’t you?”

She has the grace to look away, at least, and he sees a thoughtful expression settle on her face. “I guess it makes sense,” she says, almost more to herself than him. “But—” she looks back up at him, “—I mean, really? You’ve only ever…?” She shrugs helplessly, and he nods.

“Not that it’s really any of your business, but yes,” he confirms.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You were the one that brought it up.”

“I suppose I did,” he says, his brow furrowing. “It was easier than talking about… the other thing.”

Alex goes very quiet at that, gives him another long look, but this one less of shock and more of quiet apprehension. “What’s it like?” she asks eventually.

“Alex,” he warns, but she only looks at him expectantly, and he sighs and lifts the mug to his lips, taking a careful sip. It has even less flavour now, which is something he more or less expected, but it saddens him all the same. He forces the hot liquid down his throat, swallows, and says, “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s…” he drifts off, looks up at Alex with helpless eyes. “There are no words for it, Alex. Nothing could even come close. It’s…” He shakes his head, takes another sip of tea, then looks back at Alex, who is staring into her own mug, looking deep in thought.

“Yeah. I guess it must be, after the things I’ve seen you guys do for it.” She shudders slightly, then looks up and meets his eyes. “You sure you’re gonna be okay with this?”

“It was only vampire blood,” he reminds her, earning himself a confused look. “I didn’t, nor am I planning to, drink any human blood,” he clarifies. “Hal says it should be possible without too much trouble.”

Alex gives him another thoughtful look and is about to reply, when the sound of the front door opening and heavy footsteps coming down the corridor makes them both look up. Tom steps through into the kitchen with a deep frown on his face, and he looks back and forth between Alex and Dominic for a moment before he shakes his head.

“Somethin’s up with Tasha,” he announces. “Somethin’s goin’ on, an’ she ain’t tellin’ me. But I know somethin’s wrong, an’ has been for a while, so if either of ya know somethin’, can ya please tell me? ‘Cause I ain’t gonna take this no more.”


	14. Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This chapter focuses quite heavily on Tom and Natasha, but also contains some lengthy internal dialogue for Hal, and sets things up for other things to come. 
> 
> This is basically what the majority of Chapter 13 was supposed to be, until that one was hijacked by unexpected severe weather.
> 
> Enjoy!

Turn over everything  
Time can heal us again  
I'm tender in your arms  
Reaching inside of me  
Bringing the love I need  
The loneliness has gone

\- Feeder, “Tender”

 

Tom sits behind the reception desk, listlessly leafing through the guest register as the minutes tick away more slowly even than on the verge of a full moon, when his body is filled with nervous energy and restless anticipation.

It is not a full moon tonight, far from it, but Tom has never been one to just sit around with nothing to fill his time, and the honest truth is that ever since the incident with Hatch, the hotel has been struggling to attract new custom, despite – or maybe because of – the morbid sensation seekers that have started to frequent the hotel on the trail of the famous mass murderer that the media made responsible for the Barry massacre.

Heaving a deep sigh, Tom flicks back another page, eyes roaming across names, dates, room numbers, check-in and check-out times, and a slight crease forms on his brow as he notices an 11:30pm check-out for Room 15 some two weeks ago. They don’t usually check guests out after 2pm, and he knows that even that is generous and only possible because of the many empty rooms they usually have available nowadays. He immediately recognises the handwriting as Louise’s, and makes a mental note to ask her about it when she gets back from her break.

His thoughts are interrupted by two arms circling around him from behind, and a feather-light kiss being pressed to his right temple.

“You look like you’re deep in thought about something,” Natasha says into his ear, then moves back to give him the room to swivel around in his chair to face her. She looks at him expectantly, and he quickly shakes his head.

“’S nothin’,” he says. “Jus’ lookin’ through the guest register. Ya know it’s been awful quiet since… ya know.”

A shadow passes across Natasha’s face, but she is quick to hide it away, and she nods and says, “Yeah, I do. I’m sure it’s going to pick up again eventually, but for now we just have to accept it being quiet.” She shrugs. “It’s not like it’s the main season for beach holidays anyway.”

“Nah, you’re right,” Tom agrees. Then he gives her a scrutinising look, notices the redness of her eyes and the dark circles under them, and his heart aches at how much she is hurting over Dominic’s fate. “You all righ’?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Natasha puts on a fake smile, opens her mouth and is about to give him some bullshit lie when suddenly, the smile crumbles off her face, and she lets out a shaky sigh and says, “I will be. In time. I just…” she trails off, shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course, Tasha,” he says, smiling. “Take all the time you need.”

She gives him a small smile in return. “Thank you, Tom.” Then she takes a deep breath and adds, “The upstairs rooms are all taken care of, and I think Josh was going to do downstairs. Do you want me to make a start on setting the tables for lunch?”

Tom frowns for a moment at her businesslike tone, but then thinks that it’s probably best for her to keep herself busy, and he smiles and nods. “Yeah, that would be—”

Just at that moment, the front door opens and closes loudly, and the sound of multiple footsteps crossing the foyer drifts towards the reception desk. Tom whirls around in his chair to take in a young woman with bright purple hair wearing a green army parka, a young baby strapped to her chest, and a tall, lanky man with ash blond hair following a short distance behind her. Tom’s heart gives a small lurch at the sight of the child, memories of baby Eve flooding his mind together with a painful tightness in his chest that he purposely ignores.

The young woman steps up to the reception desk with determined steps, bright grey eyes boring into Tom’s. “You have any rooms free?” she asks without preamble, and before Tom even has a chance to as much as nod, she continues, “So we booked this last minute holiday, thought, great, few days relaxin’ by the sea, will be awesome, but thinkin’ back, we shoulda known that it was a scam. Too good to be true, the whole thing. It _was_ really cheap, thinkin’ ‘bout it. So we got to the hotel, an’ whaddaya know? The room was already booked! By someone else! An’ the good-for-nothin’ staff didn’t even apologise, can you believe it? An’ now—” she suddenly breaks off as the baby starts crying, and she coos and soothes it for a long moment, before she turns back to Tom again and continues, “An’ now we’re here, an’ the little ‘un won’ stop cryin’, an’ we got caugh’ up in that blasted storm outside.” She gestures to the window, where Tom can see heavy raindrops obscuring the view of the promenade. “So we come ‘cross this place, and I recognise it, from the news reports, y’know? An’ I say to Chris, I say, I’m not sure ‘bout tha’ place, bu’ he says, would ya rather sleep on the promenade? An’ I think ‘bout it and I’m like, wha’s there to be scared of now? Psycho’s behind lock and key, inne?” She throws Tom an expectant look then, and he lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he has been holding, and gives her a quick nod.

“‘Course he is,” he says. “And, yes, we do have a room free. Tasha, do ya mind showing these people to Room 6? An’ get Josh to help ya put a crib in there for the little ‘un?”

There is no reply, and Tom frowns as he turns around in his chair and finds Tasha white as a sheet, eyes fixed on the young woman and an unreadable expression on her face, before she suddenly jumps into motion and bolts from the room.

“Tasha?” Tom calls after her, to no avail. Doing his best to hide away the deep frown that threatens to break out on his face, Tom turns back around to the new guests. “I’m very sorry, let me show you to your room,” he says, and gets up from behind the reception desk, heading for the downstairs rooms.

***

Natasha is serving afternoon tea in the dining room by the time Tom next gets the chance to speak to her, and at first she completely ignores his approach, keeping her eyes firmly on the middle-aged couple at the table.

“That’s two cream teas, coming right up for you,” he hears her say with a wide, fake smile on her face that he can see right through, noticing the tension in her shoulders and the way her eyes flick his way repeatedly. What is it that she is worried about?

“Tasha?” he asks, only to be greeted with her back being turned to him, walking the other way as he approaches the table. Frustration takes hold of him, and he decides that it is time to get out the big guns. With as much authority as he can muster, he says, “Natasha, can I have a word please?”

Natasha freezes on the spot halfway across the dining room, then slowly turns around to him. “I’m just serving these people,” she says, nodding towards the couple at the table. At his insistent look, she sighs and adds, “I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you,” he says, heading towards the manager’s office. He lets himself inside and goes to perch on the edge of the desk, eyes fixed on the open doorway. A number of different staff make their way to and fro between the dining room and the kitchen, but none of them is Natasha, and Tom frowns. Did he say something wrong in their conversation earlier? Obviously Natasha is struggling a lot with Dominic’s… change… but he thought he’d handled himself quite well. And she was the one that came up to him at the reception earlier, so what…?

His thoughts are cut short by Natasha finally appearing in the doorway, knuckles lightly knocking against the doorframe to alert him to her presence. His head snaps up, and he gives her a forlorn look.

“You wanted to talk?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“What’s goin’ on, Tasha?” he asks straight back, indicating for her to come in and close the door. And she does, but stays close to the door nonetheless, keeping a distance between them that feels a lot greater than it is.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, looking down at her feet.

“Sure ya do,” Tom replies, accusation creeping into his voice.

“You mean earlier, when I disappeared on you?” she asks. Tom nods, and she continues, “I was feeling—”

“Sick?” Tom finishes for her, exhaling sharply through his nostrils. “Is that what ya were gonna say? ‘Cause that’s what ya _always_ say nowadays, innit? But ya still haven’t seen yer doctor, have ya?

Natasha sighs. “Tom, listen, it’s…” she trails off, giving him a pained look. “It’s not… I’m not…”

“Not what, Tasha?” Tom asks, all anger dissipated from his voice as he looks at her with concern in his eyes.

She sighs again, deeper, holding his gaze for a long moment, and once again there is that strange, unreadable expression on her face. Then she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Tom. I can’t,” she says quietly, turning on her heels and leaving the room, and the door falls loudly into the latch behind her.

Tom stands and looks at the closed door for a long moment, before he gives himself a little shake and walks towards the exit. It is time he gets some answers, and if Natasha won’t give them to him, there must someone else that can.

***

Hal is shrugging out of his shirt when he feels a trace of a familiar presence in his mind, and he lets out a harsh breath and grits his teeth.

 _Get out of my head,_ he snarls, and he hears the other one laughing as he folds up the shirt and puts it on top of the neat pile of clothes on the side of the bath.

 _You really have to stop being so possessive, Hal,_ the other one drawls. _It’s not_ your _head. Just be glad I haven’t yet decided to have any fun with your pretty new recruit. Although the way he was talking earlier, it sounded like he wouldn’t object too much if I d—_

 _Don’t you fucking dare lay a hand on him,_ Hal retorts, so loudly that he almost gives himself a headache in the process, and he squeezes his eyes shut, standing perfectly still for a moment, before he quickly brushes his boxers down his legs and steps out of them.

 _My, my, you really do care about him, don’t you,_ the other one says, and Hal frowns at the genuinely surprised and… almost gentle tone of his voice.

He shakes his head and steps into the shower, reaching out to turn on the tap. The water is ice-cold when it first hits him, and he flinches back for a moment, but quickly acclimatises as the water temperature rises to meet and then surpass his own. He squeezes some shampoo out of the bottle and massages it into his scalp, searching his mind for the other one’s presence. And there it is, waiting, expectant.

 _What do you want?_ he asks tensely, picking up the shower gel.

 _Lighten up, princess, I'm just checking in,_ the other one says, and Hal snorts at the casual insult, as well as the forced nonchalance of the answer. As if he would ever fall for that. _Why are you always so hostile, Hal?_

 _Oh, I don’t know,_ Hal shoots back. _Perhaps it’s something to do with quite how_ lucky _you were – we_ both _were – when it was only Alex on the phone earlier. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if Dominic answered the phone and your annoying, clingy little…_ he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, his face contorting in a grimace as he spits out, _affair was on the other end?_

He can practically hear the other one heave a dramatic sigh. _And here I was thinking I’d picked one that you’d approve of. I thought he would be exactly your type?_

Hal swallows thickly. _That’s not the point._

 _So he is?_ the other one asks, practically gloating, and Hal, reluctantly, nods.

 _You know he is,_ he admits. _But like I said, that’s not the point._

 _Then what is, Hal?_ the other one asks exasperatedly. _It was exactly the same with our last recruit. I chose him because I thought you might like him, and then—_

 _And then you turned him into a monster,_ Hal bites out. _Assuming it is Cutler that you’re talking about. Don’t think I will ever, ever forgive you for that. And… don’t think I will ever allow that to happen again. I’d rather destroy this body than let you do that to him._

 _Him?_ the other one asks. _You mean your precious Dominic? Don’t worry. For now, he is all yours. He is, after all, only the second—_

 _Third,_ Hal interjects, and the other one sighs.

Third _recruit that you actually made yourself. And I wasn’t going to count that… well, the less said about that one, the better, don’t you think?_

Hal hates himself for silently agreeing. Crumb surely wasn’t one of his finest moments.

_And can I just point out that that one turned into a bloodthirsty killer all by himself? No input necessary, from you, me or anyone else. Who says Cutler wouldn’t have met a similar fate?_

_I do,_ Hal replies, slamming the shower gel bottle down on the holder with a lot more force than he had intended. _Because he was_ _resistant._ _He didn’t want that life. You corrupted him, made him into what he became, because that is what you do, you…_ He stops, pauses, takes a deep breath as he turns off the shower and steps out of the steamed-up cubicle into the draughty bathroom. A chill that he suspects is only partly due to the cold makes goosebumps rise up on his wet skin, and he reaches for his towel and quickly starts drying himself. _You know what? Think whatever you want. I don’t care. Just, whatever you do, stay away from Dominic. And… stay away from that Jamie guy, too. He… he seems like a nice guy. Please don’t…_ He sighs deeply, shakes his head, then flings the towel back down on the towel rack and reaches for his clothes. _Just don’t,_ he finishes, deflated, and he stops in his tracks with his arm halfway through a shirt sleeve, waiting for a reply. But all he gets is silence, and after another full minute of waiting, he sighs deeply and finishes dressing himself.

***

Alex’s eyes take in Tom’s figure standing in the doorway, chest rising and falling with fast, heavy breaths, as if he ran all the way back here from the hotel. Knowing Tom, Alex thinks, she actually wouldn’t put it past him.

“Somethin’s up with Tasha,” Tom says. “Somethin’s goin’ on, an’ she ain’t tellin’ me. But I know somethin’s wrong, an’ has been for a while, so if either of ya know somethin’, can ya please tell me? ‘Cause I ain’t gonna take this no more.”

Alex feels Dominic’s eyes boring into her and she looks towards him, takes in his urgent, pleading expression that silently conveys, _Don’t say anything, please._ She sighs and almost imperceptibly nods her head in acknowledgement. Whatever the reason that he doesn’t want Tom to know, her gesture has an immediate effect on him, and he visibly relaxes in front of her.

“Guys?” Tom asks, and Alex turns back towards him to see him frantically looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Ah, sorry, Tom,” she says. “Er… I… don’t know.” The words almost stick in her throat, the lie feeling treacherous on her tongue. Tom was her friend first, wasn’t he? Why does she feel she owes it to Dominic to keep this secret when he hasn’t even explained the reason why?

“Ya sure?” Tom asks, sounding downright heartbroken, and Alex sighs deeply.

“Maybe it’s just her adjusting to…” she nods towards Dominic, who looks deep in thought about something, “Blondie over there. You know? Being a vampire and all that.”

Tom looks like he thinks about that for a moment, but then he frowns and shakes his head. “Nah, ’s not that. We talked ‘bout… that.” Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Dominic’s head snap up, wide eyes fixed on Tom.

“You did?” he croaks out.

Tom nods. “Yeah.”

“What…” he pauses, clears his throat. “What did she say about me?”

Tom’s face goes dark and he looks down at the surface of the counter. “’S probably better if ya don’t know.”

Dominic nods, his eyes impossibly sad despite the grim, determined expression on his face. “Understood.”

“So, yer sure ya don’t know what’s been up with Tasha?” Tom asks again, looking at Dominic now, and Alex can see the blond man shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Tom. I don’t.”

Tom heaves a deep, frustrated sigh. “All right then, thanks,” he says, then turns on his heels and disappears back into the hallway, and up the stairs to his room.

Alex stares at the empty doorway for a long moment, then turns back around to Dominic and frowns. “Why exactly is it that you don’t want him to know?”

“I—”

“He has his reasons,” Hal’s voice drifts over from the doorway then, and Alex spins around once again to face the new arrival.

“Not you as well,” she says exasperatedly, shaking her head. “I thought you were on my side on this? What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

Hal crosses the room, one hand snaking around the back of Dominic’s neck as he tilts his head up and gives him another one of those slow, gentle kisses. “Hey you,” he whispers as he pulls away.

“Hey you, too,” Dominic whispers back with that bright-eyed smile on his face that only Hal ever manages to put there.

The exchange makes a completely unbidden surge of longing and jealousy flare up in Alex that she doesn’t want to feel, but can’t help but feel anyway, and she quickly averts her eyes. Here she was, claiming she was completely and totally over Hal. She inwardly rolls her eyes at herself. Maybe if she tells herself the same lie for long enough, it will eventually become true.

Hal takes a seat in the chair between her and Dominic. She can feel his eyes on her, and she looks up to meet them. “Please just accept that there is a good reason Natasha doesn’t want Tom to know,” he says seriously.

“And I take it you know the reason?” she asks, looking first at Hal, then at Dominic, and seeing them both nodding back at her. She raises her eyebrows at them. “Well?”

“Alex, please,” Dominic says, giving her another wide-eyed look. “And before you ask, because I know you will – no, she didn’t cheat on him.”

Alex sighs. “Fine, but… she won’t get away with it for much longer. I mean, how far along is she now? It’s not something you can hide away forever.”

“She reckons about five months,” Dominic says, and Alex’s eyes widen.

“Five months?” she asks, disbelievingly. “Shit, she’s hiding that well.” Then, doing some quick maths in her head, a thought occurs to her, and she frowns. “Hold on, but that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?” asks Hal.

“She was in hospital,” Alex says, giving them both a significant look. “The night Hatch did his thing, when she was attacked by Carl. She went to hospital.” She pauses, her eyes drifting back and forth between them to be met with two equally lost expressions. She lets out a long-suffering sigh. “They ran all sorts of blood tests and scans and God knows what on her, didn’t they? Don’t you think they would’ve, I don’t know, picked up on a _pregnancy_?”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “So what you’re saying is…”

“She couldn’t have been pregnant back then,” Hal finishes for her, and she nods at him.

“Exactly.”

“But…” Dominic starts, then trails off and looks helplessly at Hal, who meets his eyes with a similar expression. They both turn towards Alex, and she gives them a small shrug.

“I don’t know, guys.”

Silence falls for a long moment, before Hal suddenly lets out a sharp breath, his eyes darting back and forth between them. “I might.”

Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Hal says with a nod. “I… When I first moved in, Annie… she talked about George and Nina a lot.” He once again looks back and forth between them, and at seeing both of their lost expressions, he adds, “Eve’s parents.”

“Ah,” Alex says, and Dominic nods in acknowledgement.

“It hadn’t been long since she lost them, and Eve was only very little, so naturally they came up in conversation a lot,” Hal continues. He takes a deep breath. “I have to admit that a lot of the time I was only half listening, what with it having been a rather… difficult time for me as well, after losing Leo and Pearl—”

“All right, Mr Tragic Vampire Figure,” Alex says, and Hal throws her a dark look. “Get to the point already,” she says impatiently. “What did Annie say?”

He glares at her for a moment, but then sighs and says, “She said that Nina’s pregnancy only took about half the expected time. Their theory at the time was that, it having been a werewolf pregnancy, it had a shorter gestation period—”

Hal’s voice is drowned out by a loud _crash_ behind them, and three pairs of eyes turn around to see Tom staring at them with wide eyes, a mess of broken crockery on the floor in front of him.

“I jus’ did some tidyin’ up in me room,” he says faintly. “Came down to wash up them plates an’ mugs an’... Did ya jus’ say _werewolf_ _pregnancy_?”

Alex looks helplessly at Hal, who squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before meeting Tom’s own. “I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t mean for it to come out like this.”

“Ya all knew,” Tom says, frowning deeply as he looks between them. “All three of ya. And ya kept it from me, why exactly?” Dominic clears his throat, about to say something, but Tom shakes his head. “Nah, don’ bother. I came in ‘ere, what, fifteen minutes ago, askin’ ya if ya knew what’s wrong, an’ ya lied straight to me face. To be honest, the only thing I wanna know right now is, is it a vampire thing, or have ya always been that much of an arsehole?”

“Tom, please, I had my rea—”

“Yeah, I’m sure ya had yer fuckin’ reasons, vampire scum,” Tom spits, and Alex can see Dominic flinch, his eyes impossibly wide in obvious shock at the insult. “But I don’t wanna hear ‘em. I can’t believe that I actually thought you’d be different, that I put in a good word for ya. For _both_ of ya,” he adds, eyes flicking over to Hal before landing back on Dominic. “Ya wanna know what she said?”

“What did she say?” Dominic asks, his voice quiet and apprehensive.

Tom pauses for a moment, a deep scowl on his face, before he grinds out, “She said you’d be better off dead.”

With that, Tom storms out of the kitchen, leaving behind him a stunned silence and three pairs of wide, disbelieving eyes staring after him.

No one seems to know what to say for a long time, and the silence gets heavier and more uncomfortable as time goes on, until it is finally broken by Dominic getting up off his chair, slowly, as if in a daze, and Alex looks up to see his eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears.

“Excuse me,” he croaks out as he sets himself in motion, out into the hallway and up the stairs.

Alex looks over towards Hal, who is staring at the table top with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” she says, even though she knows just how inadequate an apology it is for the utter mess it has created.

Hal shakes his head and looks up at her, giving her a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not your fault. To be honest, I’m not too worried about Tom and Natasha. They’re… going to figure things out. What I’m much more worried about is—”

“Dominic,” she finishes, nodding. “I know. What Tom said… it was pretty harsh, even for someone in much less of a fragile state of mind than he’s been recently.”

“He was just getting better,” Hal says with a big sigh, giving her an exasperated look. “Why is it that nothing good can ever last for more than five minutes?”

***

Tom’s head is spinning as he rushes down the quiet road towards the hotel. The late afternoon sun is just about to set, and the orange streetlights have started to come on, their light glistening off the still shiny wet surface of the pavement after the earlier rain shower.

But none of these observations really register with Tom, as two words repeat themselves again and again and again in his mind, spoken in Hal’s infuriatingly posh Southern accent.

_Werewolf pregnancy._

Now that he knows that’s what’s going on, it is like everything is just falling neatly into place. The nausea, the moodiness, the… weight gain. Even the way she would tirelessly evade his questioning again and again despite his persistence to find out the truth.

She was scared of his reaction. She thought he might not approve, that he would shirk his responsibility and leave her on her own, just like her own father left her mother to fend for herself. It just goes to show that there are a lot of things she doesn’t know about him yet. For one thing, Tom McNair will never, ever shy away from his responsibilities.

But then another, slightly panic-laden thought pops up in his mind.

_He is going to be a father._

He’s Tom. He’s only twenty-two. He lost his own father – because yes, that’s what he regards him as, whatever their actual relationship was or wasn’t – just a couple of years ago, and he is _not_ ready to be a father. Is he?

Tom’s head snaps up as the hotel looms in front of him, and for some reason the brown brick building has never looked more foreboding to him than it does in this moment. He takes a deep breath, then another, and another. He can do this.

He pushes the door open and steps inside with quick, determined strides, through the foyer, with an offhand nod towards Louise, and he thinks distractedly for a moment that he still hasn’t spoken to her about that entry in the guest book. Then he shakes off the thought, because it is completely beside the point right now, and he walks through into the dining room. His eyes fall immediately on Natasha, who is smiling as she takes an order from an elderly man at one of the tables at the back. The man reminds Tom disturbingly of Captain Hatch, and he forces down the uneasy feeling that grows in his stomach, focusing his attention on Tasha instead. On the way the skin around her eyes crinkles as she smiles, the bright red glow of her cheeks from the exertion of having been on her feet for the last however long, and before he even knows what he is doing, he is crossing the room towards her, just as she turns away from the old man at the table, and her eyes widen as she sees him.

“Tom?” she asks, uncertainty in her voice and maybe a little bit of worry.

And he finds that the words stick in his throat as he comes to a stop in front of her, and he lifts both hands to cup her face, to tilt up her head, and he presses a long, deep kiss to her lips. He can feel her giggling slightly against him at the sudden, unexpected advance, but she is not pulling away, is instead melting into the kiss, even as he feels her hands come up to his chest and lightly pushing.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away, looking deeply into her eyes, but not before he notices the deep flush in her cheeks and the small, crooked smile on her lips.

“What was that for?” she asks, her eyes darting around he room, and it is only then that Tom realises that all eyes are on them. And in the same heartbeat, he decides that he couldn’t care less.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” he asks, slightly breathless.

Natasha’s brow furrows. “Tell you what?” she asks, and then her eyes widen again. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Tom says, nodding. “Ya coulda said, Tasha. I… I won’t abandon ya. Ever.” He swallows, his eyes darting down for a fraction of a second to the slight, almost nonexistent rounding of her stomach under her tight uniform. “Either of ya.”

Natasha stares at him for a long moment. “Tom, I…”

“I love ya,” Tom says, before he leans in and kisses her again. He can feel her smile against him.

“I love you too,” she whispers. “How did you—”

“That don’t matter,” Tom says quickly, then takes her hand in his own and gives it a light tug. “How ‘bout I give ya the rest o’ the day off,” he says with a determined nod. “We should… go celebrate or summat.”

“But I have to…” Natasha starts, her eyes dancing and that small teasing smile back on her lips as she nods towards the old man in the corner, and Tom frowns.

“I’ll get someone else to finish yer order for ya, sir,” he calls, and once again tugs at Natasha’s hand, pulling her towards the exit. Chelsea walks past, balancing a couple of plates, and he catches her eye and nods towards the man in the corner.

“Done,” Chelsea says with a bright smile. “I have no idea what just happened, but good for you.”

“Thanks,” Tom says, a smile growing on his own face as he pulls Natasha with him through the foyer and out onto the street. Once outside, he stops and turns around to her, and he sees her looking back at him with an expectant expression on her face.

“Well?” she asks. “What now, then?”

Tom’s face falls. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he says, feeling a faint blush heating up his cheeks.

The bright ring of her laughter as she looks back at him is so worth it though, he thinks, as she grabs hold of his hand once more, roles reversed as she starts pulling him along down the street.

“Never mind, we’ll wing it,” she says, throwing an arm around him and snuggling into him as they continue walking down the empty pavement.

***

Hal carefully opens the bedroom door, eyes roaming around the room to find Dominic standing by the window, looking out onto the dark street below. At hearing Hal enter, he turns around, red-rimmed blue eyes meeting his own, and Hal sighs as he quickly crosses the room to meet him.

“Dominic, please, don’t let it get to you,” he says quietly, lifting one hand to brush away the slightly wet trail of a single tear that stains Dominic’s left cheek. “He was angry and upset, he would’ve said anything to hurt you at the time.”

Dominic’s breath comes out in a ragged sigh. “He had a point though, didn’t he. And what he said about Tasha—”

“You don’t even know if that was true,” Hal says quickly, fingers curling underneath Dominic’s chin to make him look up at him. “Chances are it was taken completely out of context. She did ask you to be the baby’s godfather after all, didn’t she?”

Dominic sighs again. “Yes,” he admits, then turns away from Hal, back towards the window. “Not that there is any chance of that after what just happened. I don’t think Tom would let me anywhere _near_ the baby, never mind taking on that kind of role.”

Hal moves in closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around Dominic and pressing a kiss into the back of his head. “He’ll come round,” he says quietly. “They both will. You’ll see.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dominic asks, even as he feels him relaxing into his embrace.

“I know Tom,” he continues, nuzzling into the back of Dominic’s neck. “He hated my guts when we first met, and look at us now,” he adds with a small chuckle. “He’s quick to anger, and he has a tendency to simmer for a while, but he will cool down eventually, given some time and space.”

Dominic is silent for a long moment, obviously thinking about his words, and Hal just tightens his arms around him, giving him all the comfort he can give. Then Dominic pulls away slightly and turns around in his embrace, bringing his own arms up and around Hal’s waist to pull him back in, and he looks at him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Then perhaps,” Dominic says slowly, “we should actually give him some time, and some space.” His eyes come up and look straight into Hal’s own, a strange glint in them that Hal doesn’t know how to place, until his mouth opens again, and he says, “How do you feel about a road trip?”


	15. Road Trip, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. You guys make my day!
> 
> Please enjoy Part I of Dominic's Journey of Self-discovery(TM).

Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear  
And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear  
Take the wheel and steer  
It's driven me before  
And it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal  
But lately I am beginning to find  
That I should be the one behind the wheel

\- Incubus, “Drive”

 

It took several assurances from Dominic that he was really, truly, one hundred percent sure about this, but eventually, reluctantly, Hal agreed to his suggestion.

So now, early the next morning, Dominic sits at the bar in the living room, a glass of cheap whiskey held in one hand and his phone in the other. Tom did not come home after storming off yesterday, and Dominic can only assume that he stayed with Natasha overnight. Now his job is to make sure that he and Hal are gone before he gets back, and to give him, as Hal put it, some time and space.

Dominic sighs, his eyes fixed on the number on the screen, the one his phone had stored from the unexpected call he received the other day. Is he really going to do this?

_“Are you really ready for this?” Hal asks with a furrow in his brow. “Only a week ago you baulked at the idea of a road trip, and now you're the one to suggest it?”_

_Dominic sighs. “Things have changed since then.” He hesitantly looks up and into Hal’s concerned eyes._

_“The blood, you mean,” Hal says, voicing his thoughts, and Dominic nods._

_“As long as I make sure I…” he pauses, sighs, “have some before I get there, there is a good chance that they’ll be safe.”_

_“A good chance?” Hal repeats, and Dominic nods again. “Since when has ‘a good chance’ been enough for you?”_

_Dominic shakes his head and looks down for a moment before his eyes come back up to meet Hal’s. “How can I be sure about anything anymore?”_

“Are you really planning to drink that stuff?” Alex's voice drifts into his consciousness, and he looks up to find the ghost perching on the stool next to him, giving the drink in his hand an uncertain look.

Dominic huffs. “It's better than the alternative, don't you think?” he asks, his eyes flicking towards his wrist for a fraction of a second before he fixes them on Alex, who swallows and nods.

“If you put it that way.”

“But I agree with you,” Dominic continues. “I should see to getting something a little more…”

“Posh,” Alex suggests.

“Tasteful,” he corrects.

“Pretentious.”

“Sophisticated.”

“Overpriced.”

Dominic opens his mouth for another retort, but never gets the chance as a husky chuckle leaves him instead.

Alex smiles at him for a moment, then shakes her head and says, “God, you're such a snob.”

“If I remember correctly,” Dominic points out, “you came over here and asked, and I quote, ‘Are you really planning to drink that stuff?’”

“Yeah,” Alex replies, nodding. “Because I know how much of a snob you are.”

Dominic narrows his eyes at her. “I have taste. There's a difference.”

“Well, that statement I can’t even argue with,” Alex says, a wistful note creeping into her voice that tells Dominic they are not talking about whiskey anymore. Not entirely, anyway. “But in any case,” Alex continues after a moment, nodding towards the amber liquid in his glass. “My question still stands.”

Dominic sighs deeply before defiantly lifting the glass to his lips and taking a careful sip. It really is rather unsavoury, he has to admit, but it will do the job. He does his best not to show his distaste as he places the glass back down on the bar and gives Alex a smug look.

“Rather you than me,” Alex mumbles, then looks up at him and adds, “Why are you sitting here drinking alone at ten in the morning, anyway?”

“Dutch courage,” he says before taking another small sip, and his eyes fall back on the phone in his hand.

Alex follows his gaze. “Who you gonna call? Natasha?”

He quickly shakes his head. “No. No, I—”

But it's as if Alex’s words have somehow summoned her, as just in that moment Dominic's phone starts vibrating in his hand with Natasha’s name appearing on the screen in big white letters.

“Oh God, no,” Dominic whispers, eyes growing wide as he stares at the phone.

“Answer it,” Alex prompts and gets up off the barstool. “I'll go.”

“Alex, no, I…”

“Answer it,” Alex says again, louder. “If you ignore her, it's only gonna get harder.”

He sighs. “You’re right. I… I should talk to her.”

“Yes,” Alex agrees, nodding. “Shout if you need me. I’ll be… somewhere.” He looks up just in time to see her disappear into thin air, and he lets out another, deeper sigh, the Blackberry still vibrating in his hand.

He swallows hard as he lifts it to his ear and says, “Tasha.”

“Did you tell Tom?” she asks straight away, and Dominic flinches at the accusation in her tone.

“No, Tasha, I—”

“Then who did? Because he didn’t figure it out by himself, did he? I thought I’d told you very clearly not to say anything?”

“Nobody told him, Tasha,” Dominic says quietly. “He overheard me talking to Hal and Alex—”

Natasha lets out a harsh laugh. “Oh, so _they_ all know as well? I might as well paint it on my forehead for all you care about keeping a secret, huh?”

Dominic sighs. “I didn’t tell them either, Tasha,” he says, working hard to not let his exasperation show in his voice. “Hal figured it out himself, and Alex… she was just there when he mentioned it, and he didn’t know it was a secret, so…”

“How did he…” Natasha starts, but then seems to change her mind as she adds, “No, you know what? I don’t wanna know. Fucking vampire is creeping me out enough as it is.”

The way she spits the word ‘vampire’ makes a painful lump rise in Dominic’s throat. “Tasha—”

“No,” she says quickly, and he can hear her heave a deep sigh through the phone line. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just still don’t really know how to deal with…” She drifts off, and there is silence for a moment, before she adds, “It’s hard.”

“I know it is, Tasha,” he croaks. “It is for me as well.”

“Yeah,” Natasha says flatly, then, in a more upbeat tone, asks, “So, what’s new?”

“Hal and I are going away,” he says, and there is a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“What do you mean, ‘away’?”

“Only for a short trip,” Dominic clarifies. “I… have some business to take care of.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “Business?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” she says, sounding unconvinced. “It’s just… last time we spoke, you were terrified of even leaving the house, and now… well. Just… please be safe, okay?”

“Of course, Tasha. Hal is going to make sure—”

“Yeah, because he’s got such a fantastic track record of keeping you safe,” Natasha bites out, and he sighs.

“He’s going to do his best,” he says, before a thought occurs to him, and he adds, “Tasha? Are you… are you working today?”

“No, Tom’s given me a few days off,” she says with a small laugh. “I think he feels bad for making me work so hard when I’m like five and a half months pregnant. I want to tell him that I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much, but you know what Tom’s like. Don’t think he’ll ever change.” She laughs again, and Dominic feels his lips forming a small, fond smile. He didn’t even realise quite how much he missed her talking so freely with him. Every other conversation they have had recently has been painfully awkward.

“No, I think you’re right,” he says. Then his brain processes another thing she said, and he adds, “Listen Tasha, about the… five and a half months… we have to talk about that at some point. Hal’s got this theory—”

“About a ‘werewolf pregnancy’ being faster? At least I _think_ that’s what Tom was trying to get across to me, he was throwing around some complicated words.”

Dominic nods. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“But I’m not a werewolf, Dominic,” Natasha points out. “At least I wasn’t last time I looked.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Tasha,” he says seriously.

“Why?” she shoots back. “At least that way you wouldn’t want to kill me anymore.”

Dominic swallows thickly. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Natasha huffs. “Yeah. Maybe you don’t right now. Wait until you’re in the same room as me.”

“About that,” Dominic says quickly. “Would you mind if Hal and I… came by the flat in a little while? Just for a minute?” he asks hesitantly. “There is something I’d like to give you before I go.”

Natasha lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh huh. That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

Dominic smiles. “Nothing ominous, I promise. Just… something I would like you to have.”

“And it has to be now.”

“Yes. Because…” he drifts off, clears his throat. “Yes.”

There is silence on the other end for a long time, and Dominic takes another sip of the cheap whiskey, the alcohol burning his throat in a comfortingly familiar way.

“Okay,” Natasha says eventually. “I’ve got a whole stack of letters to give you anyway.” She is quiet again for a moment, but he can hear the smile in her voice, however strained, when she adds, “Promise me you won’t try and bite me?”

He chokes out a laugh, his eyes once again wandering to his wrist resting on the bar next to the half empty whiskey glass. “I promise,” he says, with more conviction than he feels, but more trust in himself than he has felt ever since he first woke up in that cellar, thanks to the remnants of the weak, diluted vampire blood coursing through his system.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Natasha says. “See you in a bit.”

With another quiet laugh, Dominic finishes the call and puts the phone down on the bar next to his glass, thinking, _That could’ve gone a lot worse._

And it is that thought that stays with him as he picks the phone up again a moment later, after draining the last of the whiskey, and dials the solicitors’ number.

***

Hal turns the key in the lock and picks up the two heavy shopping bags on the floor next to him, carrying them through the hallway.

He is just about to enter the kitchen when Alex appears right in front of him, and he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Hey there, need a hand with those?” she asks.

Hal rolls his eyes. “Do you have to do that?” he bites out, walking around her and into the kitchen. He puts the bags down on the counter and turns around to her just in time to see her jump up on the counter next to him, dangling her legs in the air.

“Do what exactly?” she asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Hal gives her an incredulous look. “Rent-a-ghost right in front of me? Or anyone, for that matter? _All_ the time? Just because you can do it doesn’t mean you have to every five minutes.”

“But it’s so much more fun than walking,” Alex replies, and Hal sighs.

“Why do I even bother?”

“Yeah, you know, I’ve asked myself the same question with you.” Hal’s eyes snap up to see her looking at him with an unexpectedly thoughtful expression. “Where’ve you been that long, anyway?”

Hal starts to unpack the chilled contents of the bags into the fridge. “Why, what time is it?”

“It’s just gone eleven,” Alex says, and Hal freezes in the middle of putting a bottle of milk into the fridge, a deep frown forming on his face. He left for the shops at nine… how can a bit of shopping and getting petrol have taken him _two hours_?

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly.

Alex huffs. “I may not have reached your lofty heights of education, but I do know how to read a clock.”

“I’m sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to say that you can’t,” he says quickly.

“Well, anyway,” Alex continues. “Where _have_ you been all that time?”

Hal looks up at her briefly before going back to his task of putting the vegetables away in the fridge. “Shopping,” he says in a clipped tone.

He can hear Alex taking a deep breath, readying herself for some kind of retort, before she obviously thinks better of it and says, “All right.”

He shuts the fridge door and turns around to face Alex, who is still sitting on the counter. “Where’s Dominic?” he asks.

Alex shrugs. “Said he was going to start packing last time I saw him. If he hasn’t passed out from alcohol poisoning that is.”

Hal frowns. “Alcohol poisoning?”

“Yeah, he was having some of that stuff from the bar before he made his phone call. Do we have any idea how old those bottles are, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Hal says with a small shake of his head. “But okay, I should probably check how he’s getting on.”

“I can put the rest of the shopping away if you want,” Alex offers, and Hal gives her a grateful look.

“Thanks, Alex.”

“Yeah, no problem. Thanks for getting it, anyway. Well, Tom will thank you, when he gets back.”

With a nod and a smile, Hal makes his way past her, out the door and up the stairs towards their room. He carefully opens the door and walks inside… and stops dead in his tracks when his eyes fall on Dominic.

He is sitting on the leather sofa by the window, two stark red marks visible in his left wrist and a small flask clasped firmly between both of his hands. His eyes are fixed on the flask as if hypnotised, but at hearing Hal come in, his head snaps up and his piercing blue eyes home in on him instead. Hal’s gaze travels down involuntarily to take in the slightly red tinge of his lips, and then further down to the flask in his hands. It looks unopened.

“Dominic,” he says calmly “You know I’m the last person to tell you not to, but I know you. I know you don’t really want to do that.”

Dominic looks like he is coming out of some sort of daze when his eyes dart from Hal back to the flask in his hands. “I haven’t had any of it,” he says quietly.

Hal swallows. “I know. But you’re still holding it,” he points out, then takes another step closer. “Why don’t you give that to me?”

“Is it really that different?” Dominic continues as if he didn’t even hear him. His eyes flash black for a fraction of a second as they stay fixed on the dark red liquid in the flask. “I used to handle these every day,” he continues, not really talking to Hal. Not really talking to anyone. “Gave them out to countless vampires. I even refilled some of them myself, earlier on in my career, and later, too, when we were short-staffed.” He huffs out a hollow laugh. “I remember one time when I had just joined the department. I couldn’t have been more than… I don’t know, sixteen. One of my colleagues, a man called Robert… he was a few years older than me, and he never liked me much. Thought I was getting some kind of special treatment for being the son of the Permanent Secretary. Perhaps he was right, but I couldn’t see that at the time. It’s strange, isn’t it, how your perspective on things changes as you get older? I was in the supplies room, filling blood into flasks from the larger containers. The work surface was a bit cluttered, I suppose, and in walks Robert and puts something down on the counter next to me, and in doing so, he tips over the container filled with blood.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he lets out a hoarse little laugh, clears his throat and continues, “I was covered head to toe in the stuff. I still remember how revolted I was by it. It was even in my _hair_.” He looks up then, meeting Hal’s eyes and an odd little smile on his face. “But I guess that’s something you’re probably familiar with.”

“Dominic,” Hal starts, unsure of what to say but knowing he has to say _something_. But Dominic just shakes his head.

“No, don’t worry. I… I was starting to pack your bag.” He looks over towards the bed, and Hal’s eyes fall on the familiar travel bag. “I got this out to…” he drifts off, lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” He holds out his hand holding the flask, and Hal can see it shaking almost imperceptibly as he does so.

“ _I’m_ sorry,” he says quietly, taking the flask, and Dominic gives him a sad smile.

“It is what it is,” he says, eyes once again dropping to the flask now clasped in Hal’s hand, and Hal follows his gaze, looking for a moment at the liquid sloshing inside, and he is surprised at how little he desires it right now. How very quiet the hunger is inside of him.

He swallows and quickly stores the flask away deep inside the travel bag. He makes a mental note to ask Alex for another couple of flasks before they go. It won’t do to leave without ensuring appropriate reserves.

He quickly zips up the bag, then turns around and sits down next to Dominic, his hand absentmindedly reaching for Dominic’s left arm, thumb rubbing over the already half-healed punctures in his wrist. “You really shouldn’t make a habit out of that,” he says, looking up and into Dominic’s big blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Dominic says, averting his eyes, and Hal shakes his head.

“No, don’t. Do it if it helps you, I guess, I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

Dominic raises his eyebrows at him, giving him a significant look that says, _You made me like this_.

Hal sighs. “I know, and I am so sorry.”

Dominic relaxes a little bit then, his expression turning thoughtful when he looks down at Hal’s hand caressing his wrist, then back at Hal’s face, and says, “You’re warm.”

Hal chuckles. “I think you will find that I’m just _not cold_ anymore. I’m the same temperature as you now.”

Dominic shakes his head, a small frown forming on his face. “No,” he replies. “You’re warmer.”

Hal feels an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach at the words, but he chooses to ignore it and instead gives Dominic a warm smile and asks, “How did the call with the solicitor go?”

Dominic looks for a moment like he is going to press the issue further, but thankfully eventually gives in and says, “He is happy to meet with us this afternoon.”

Hal nods. “Okay. And you’re really sure you want to do this?”

Dominic sighs, turning his hand over in Hal’s grasp to take Hal’s hand into his own, and his eyes bore straight into Hal’s. “I’m sure.” He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat and adds, “There’s just… one more thing we need to do first.”

***

Dominic nervously taps his left hand against the car door as the baby blue Mercedes weaves through the busy Cardiff traffic.

“Just in there,” he says, pointing to a junction ahead, and Hal turns around to him for a moment, giving him an exasperated look. “I know, Dominic. I remember.”

“Of course, sorry,” he mumbles, eyes roaming along the familiar road as the car pulls into an empty parking bay outside the apartment building he once called home. His head snaps up as he gets a waft of a familiar smell from outside the car, and he narrows his eyes as he sees a middle-aged man walking past with a black Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Dominic can feel his treacherous gums itching, and he clenches his jaw hard to stop his fangs from extending. It wouldn’t do to greet Natasha like that.

Hal’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he turns around to see serene hazel eyes gazing into his own.

“Relax, Dominic. You’ll be fine.”

He nods at Hal and, once the man with the Staffie is a safe distance away, he wordlessly opens the passenger door and gets out of the car, looking up at the second floor windows. He hears Hal closing the driver’s door behind him, and he turns around to give him a small smile over the car roof.

“You’ll be fine,” Hal repeats, an encouraging smile on his lips. “Just ring the bell.”

He nods again and takes the last few steps to the door, then stops in his tracks. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. One of his hands reaches into his coat pocket to close around the small case he is carrying with him. The other one reaches hesitantly for the doorbell.

It only takes a few seconds for Natasha’s voice to sound through the intercom. “Dominic? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me, Tasha,” he replies, then adds, “Hal’s here as well.”

There is a beat of silence before she says, “Okay, come on up.”

Dominic swallows and pushes the door open, and he can feel Hal’s hand settling at the small of his back as they get into the lift. It pings before he expects it, and he steps out onto the landing, looking over to the familiar large wooden door. His eyes fall on Natasha standing in the doorway, a small crease in her brow, and he freezes.

“Hey,” Natasha says quietly, eyes darting back and forth between himself and Hal too quickly to be comfortable.

“Hi, Tasha,” he says, mustering a small smile, and he sets himself in motion again, crossing the short distance to the door. She steps back as he approaches, and he feels a sharp ache in his chest at the gesture, until he realises that she is merely opening the door wider to let him and Hal in.

“Hello, Natasha,” Hal says next to him.

Tasha gives him a somewhat frosty look. “Hi, Hal.”

Dominic walks up to the threshold, and suddenly a conversation he had with Hal and Tom a short while ago surfaces in his mind again. He swallows and takes a very slow, careful step forward, half expecting an invisible barrier to keep him out. But there is no barrier, and his foot makes it over the threshold, quickly followed by the other one.

He turns around to Hal, who has stopped outside, holds out his hand and says, “Come in.”

“Er, yeah. Of course,” Natasha says. “Sorry, Hal. Come in.”

Hal chuckles. “I only needed one of you to say it, but thank you.” He takes Dominic’s offered hand and walks across he threshold into the hallway.

“Er… would you guys like… erm… a cup of tea or something?” Natasha asks.

Dominic shakes his head. “No, thank you, Tasha.”

“Me neither, thanks,” Hal says. “I don’t think we’ll be staying long.”

“Okay, sure,” says Natasha, nodding. “Should we… er… sit down?” She vaguely gestures towards the living room, and Dominic nods and walks through the door, taking a seat on the white three-seater, his eyes roaming around the room that he once called his own. This flat is almost identical to his old one, and a whole bunch of memories suddenly flood his mind, of moments shared with Hal, Tasha, both, neither…

One particular memory surfaces in his mind, of Hal sitting next to him on the sofa after a delicious meal, his head buzzing slightly with a little too much wine, and then Hal slipping down onto the floor in front of him, and the feeling of Hal’s talented mouth taking him—

He shuts down the thought as he feels himself blushing, and he loudly clears his throat.

Hal sits down next to him, and Dominic’s eyes invariably wander across the room to the large ornate mirror above the fireplace. He swallows as he stares at his and Hal’s non-reflection for a long moment.

“Yeah, that’s… fucking weird,” Natasha says, and he looks up to see that she has followed his gaze to the mirror, and is now looking at it with a small frown on her face. She shakes her head and looks away, then sits down in the armchair across from them.

“Let’s just hope that the solicitor’s office doesn’t have any mirrors,” Hal whispers into his ear, and Dominic turns around to see him giving him a teasing smile.

“Yes, let’s,” he agrees through gritted teeth, and Hal sighs.

“So,” Natasha says then, plastering on a brittle little smile. “How have you been?”

 _Hungry,_ he thinks before he can stop himself, but thankfully he doesn’t say it out loud, and instead he smiles and says, “Not too bad, all things considered.”

“That’s good,” she says, and he nods.

“Yes.” After a short moment, he adds, “How about you?” His eyes dart down to her stomach for a second, then again for a longer moment when he sees her hand settle there.

“I’m okay,” she says, biting her lip. “Little man seems to have calmed down a bit in there, and I’m not feeling sick all the time anymore, so that’s a good thing.”

“Definitely,” Dominic says, smiling and nodding. Then his eyes narrow and he asks, “Little man?”

Natasha lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. I… had a scan last week. They told me I’m about 24 weeks, and that it’s a boy. But I know they’ve probably got the dates wrong, from what you told me, so…” she drifts of, shrugs. Then she gives Dominic a quizzical look. “So, you wanted to give me something?”

He nods. “Yes, I…” He reaches into his pocket, gets out the small box, and places it down on the table between them.

Natasha’s eyes widen when she looks at the blue velvet-covered jewellery box, and she lets out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Well, I didn’t expect you to propose,” she says. There is humour in her voice, but Dominic can hear something underneath it, something raw and painful, and it makes his throat go dry.

“It’s not…” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again, “It’s not that. It’s… just something I used to… something that used to be important to me, and I would like you to have it now.”

“Okay,” Natasha says, with a nervous little smile as she picks up the box.

“Open it,” Dominic prompts, and she does. And her face falls.

“Dominic,” she breathes, looking back up from the silver cross and straight into his eyes. “I… I don’t know what to… I remember this,” she finishes, nodding.

“Yes, well,” Dominic says, “I can’t really wear it anymo—”

The rest of the sentence is swallowed by a groan as Natasha lifts the cross out of the box by it’s silver chain, and a sharp pain hits Dominic square in the forehead. His hand shoots up to cover his face, and he blinks his eyes shut, only to find that they have switched to black when he reopens them. His gaze fixes on Natasha, who lets out a small, strangled noise.

Hal’s arm tightens around his waist. “Natasha, do you mind?” he asks urgently.

“Oh… I… of course,” Natasha replies, and then, as suddenly as it came, the pain dissipates. Dominic blinks again, sees the room go back to normal, and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you, Tasha,” he says, eyes roaming towards the closed jewellery box in her hands, and then up to her face. There is a faint blush rising into her cheeks that he tries very much not to focus on.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, letting out another small, awkward laugh. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” Dominic says quickly, shaking his head. “Anyway, I… would like you to have it. To wear it. I want you to be… protected.”

Natasha nods, but then her eyes narrow and she looks at Hal. “But it doesn’t work on him.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Dominic says earnestly. “He isn’t the one you need protection from.”

Natasha silently regards them both for a long moment. “But—” she starts, then stops herself, giving them another long, hard look. Finally, she nods and says, “All right.” Her eyes settle on Dominic when she adds, “Thank you. That’s very… thoughtful of you.”

“Promise me you’ll always wear it,” Dominic says, repeating the words his grandmother said to him so many years ago.

Natasha bites her lip, eyes darting down to the small box in her hands, and she nods as she looks back up at him. “I promise.”

***

Hal steers the car down the busy dual carriageway out of Cardiff, his eyes darting towards the still figure in the passenger seat. Dominic has been very subdued ever since they left Natasha’s place, and Hal watches him for a moment as he gazes out the passenger window at the scenery flying past outside.

“You okay?” he asks, and Dominic starts slightly, his head whipping around to face Hal.

“Yes,” he says with a small smile. “I’m fine. A lot better now I know she’ll be protected.”

“You’re not going to hurt her, Dominic,” he says, and the smile slips off Dominic’s face.

“You can’t know that.”

“How did you feel when you were there with her?” he asks, giving Dominic a significant look.

He can see Dominic thinking about his question for a moment, before, in a slow, surprised tone, he says, “I felt… okay, for the most part. I didn’t feel like I wanted to hurt her.”

Hal smiles. “You see?”

“Yes,” Dominic replies, giving him a small smile in return. “I do. But I did say ‘for the most part.’”

“I understand,” Hal says, training his eyes back on the road just in time to see a traffic light switching to red in front of him. He slows the car to a halt, then turns back towards Dominic, who has gone back to looking out the passenger window. “It’ll get easier with time,” he adds.

Dominic doesn’t turn back around to him, just gives him an absentminded nod, and Hal follows his gaze to a group of kids walking past outside. He reaches out a hand to lightly cover Dominic’s own, lying in his lap.

Dominic’s head snaps around to him at the unexpected touch, and there is hunger and fear written in his blue eyes in equal measure. “They’re just children,” he says in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “And I look at them, and all I can think is how I want to get out of the car and rip them to pieces.”

“But you’re not doing it,” Hal says firmly. “You’re still here with me.” Yet even as he speaks, Hal’s grip tightens ever so slightly around Dominic’s hand. Dominic’s eyes flick down to their joint hands, but he doesn’t otherwise move or reply. “Keep reminding yourself that you don’t really want to harm them,” Hal continues. “I promise you, those thoughts are going to fade with time. It’s not going to be like this forever.”

“I very much hope you’re right,” Dominic whispers, looking down at his lap to fight the urge to look back out the window again.

The traffic light switches back to green then, and Hal presses down the accelerator… and the engine dies.

“Goddammit,” he swears under his breath. “What’s wrong with the thing now?” He turns the key in the ignition, and the car reluctantly springs to life. He once again presses the accelerator… and the car stalls again. Behind them, a horn is honking. “Fucking, stupid—”

“Hal,” Dominic says loudly, and Hal looks around to him, surprised to see him giving him an exasperated look. Dominic nods towards the dashboard. “I thought you went to fill the car up earlier?”

“I… did,” Hal says, frowning. “I went out to do the weekly shop so that Tom wouldn’t have to, and I got petrol on the way home.”

“Doesn’t look like you did,” Dominic points out with raised eyebrows, and Hal glances at the fuel gauge, which is indeed close to empty.

“Oh for God’s sake, not again,” Hal mutters, giving the steering wheel an almighty punch as he restarts the engine. It takes even longer this time, and behind him, there is a whole cacophony of car horns now, but eventually, the old car roars to life, and Hal, very carefully, puts his foot on the accelerator and manages to pull away this time.

“We need to find a petrol station,” Dominic says.

“Yes, thank you for stating the bloody obvious,” Hal retorts, then regrets his outburst straight away as Dominic glares at him, and he mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” replies Dominic, “although I don’t really understand what’s got you so worked up suddenly.”

Hal sighs. “Nothing, just…” He drifts off with a small shake his head. “Nothing.”

“All right, fine,” Dominic huffs. They drive on in silence for a long moment, before Dominic suddenly points to something vaguely to his left and says, “There’s one over there.”

Hal’s eyes follow to where he is pointing, and harden as he quickly shakes his head. “Left-hand side, Dominic.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dominic replies, turning towards him with a small frown.

“I never stop on the…” he stops himself mid-sentence and sighs deeply. “Look, the last time I stopped at a petrol station on the left-hand side of the road, I ended up killing four people.”

He chances a glance towards Dominic, who is staring at him with wide eyes. Then the pieces seem to fall into place, and he nods briskly. “Okay, then. I’ll go.”

“Dominic—”

“No, listen, Hal. I don’t care about your silly superstitions, all right? We’re going to run out of petrol. So please, just pull in and let me go and fill the car up. You said it yourself, didn’t you? I just have to keep telling myself that I don’t want to harm them, and I won’t.” He shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to have a practice run before we get to the solicitors’ office, don’t you think?”

Hal feels a lump rising in his throat. “I really don’t feel comfortable—”

“You don’t have to _do_ anything,” Dominic says exasperatedly. “Just sit in the car and wait for me to get back. Do you think you can do that?”

Hal sighs. “Yes, okay,” he says after a moment, and pulls into the petrol station.

***

Dominic gets out of the car with a long-suffering shake of his head. He loves Hal more than anything, but sometimes he can truly drive him up the wall. He reaches for the petrol pump and inserts the nozzle, waiting for the tank to fill up.

His eyes wander around the large open space. There are a couple of other cars parked at the other pumps, but the drivers are nowhere to be seen. Other than that, the only movement is coming from the steady stream of traffic along the busy A road, and trees swaying softly in the breeze off in the distance. Dominic feels a sense of calm and strength wash over him like he hasn’t felt it for a long time, and he replaces the nozzle in the holder before he confidently strides up to the shop to pay.

He stops in his tracks as soon as the door falls shut behind him, and he is hit by a powerful scent of _blood blood blood_ from the six inhabitants of the shop. He is slightly taken aback by the fact that he can immediately tell there are six of them, not by actually looking, but merely by the way their smells all mix together in the small space. There is a middle-aged man standing behind the counter, serving a woman with two small children, one boy and one girl, neither of them older than preschool age. Dominic’s eyes roam around the room until he makes out the remaining two, a couple of girls standing laughing and giggling in a corner.

Dominic clears his throat to rid himself of the lump forming there, and slowly walks up to the counter. He better not waste any more time in here than strictly necessary. The heady, sweet smell of the six humans is starting to make him feel slightly light-headed.

“Sorry, but your machine must be wrong,” he hears the woman say, and he looks up to see her waving out the window towards a dark grey minivan. “I didn’t actually fill it all the way up.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the cashier says. “The machine clearly states…”

Dominic turns away from the conversation, finding himself faced with a shelf full of chocolate bars. He lets his eyes wander across them, tries to remember which ones he used to like as a kid. He quickly grabs a Twirl and an Aero bar, then turns towards the drinks fridge and takes out a couple of small bottles of coke. Might as well go for the full road trip experience.

When he looks back towards the counter, he sees the woman putting her card back into her purse with a huff, before she ushers her kids past him and towards the exit. As soon as they have left, Dominic allows him a small, measured breath, and finds that the air is slightly more breathable. He walks up to the counter and gives the cashier a strained smile.

“Number one please,” he says without making eye contact, putting the bottles and chocolate bars down in front of him, “and these as well.”

“That’s £56.22 all together,” the cashier says.

Dominic glances up to see he is giving him a friendly smile. He feels a small smile flit across his own face as he gets out his card and puts it in the machine.

“That your car?” the cashier asks then, and Dominic looks up from the card machine to follow his gaze outside.

“My partner’s,” he mumbles, turning his attention back to the card machine and entering his PIN.

“Nice one,” the cashier says, clearly unaware of his discomfort.

“Thanks,” he says quickly and withdraws his card. It doesn’t take long for the payment to go through, and the cashier hands him the receipt.

“Well, have a good one,” he says, as Dominic scrambles his purchases up in his arms.

He is already halfway to the door when he realises he hasn’t replied. “You too,” he throws over his shoulder, then pushes the door open and gasps in a much needed breath of fresh, clean air. “You too,” he repeats in a whisper, and slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, a smile grows on his lips. By the time he makes it back to the car and Hal leans over to open the door for him, he is grinning from ear to ear.

He quickly slips into the passenger seat and puts the food and drinks down. “Well, no one died,” he says, lifting his eyes to meet Hal’s. “Fancy a chocolate bar?”

Hal looks back at him with a mix of pride and bewilderment. “Why on Earth did you buy those things, Dominic?”

Dominic’s brow creases. “Because I could? And… because that’s what you do on a road trip? You fill yourself up with junk food and terrible soft drinks?”

Hal gives him a blank expression. “Sorry, I didn’t go out much in the last sixty years.”

Dominic smiles and shakes his head. “Coke?” he asks, holding one of the bottles out to Hal, who frowns darkly.

“I have never, nor will I ever drink a carbonated soft drink, Dominic. Squash is bad enough, I don’t even want to know—”

“All right, all right, suit yourself,” Dominic says, putting the bottle down with a sigh. Then he looks back up at Hal. “What’s so bad about squash?”

Hal turns away as he restarts the engine. “It doesn’t agree with me.”

Dominic looks at him for a long moment, expecting him to continue. But when he doesn’t, he shrugs and decides to store that one away for later. A small, breathy chuckle escapes him, and he says, “Well, then. Shall we go?”

Hal nods, and steers the the car back out onto the busy road.


	16. Road Trip, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading :)
> 
> So, here's part two of the road trip, and the guys finally make it to their destination... eventually. I had such a great time writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much.

So if I decide to waiver my chance  
To be one of the hive  
Will I choose water over wine  
And hold my own and drive?  
It's driven me before  
And it seems to be the way that everyone else gets around  
But lately I am beginning to find  
That when I drive myself my light is found

\- Incubus, “Drive”

 

_Dominic is walking down the pavement, his right hand firmly clasped in Hal’s._

_Dominic holds his breath and tries to block out the he heavy, inviting smell of blood in the air, the cacophony of heartbeats all around him._

_There is a part of him, somewhere deep inside, that thinks,_ Not this again, _but the thought doesn’t make any sense to him. Why again? When has he been here before?_

_But then a group of girls stumble out of a night club in front of them, and he gasps out a breath as the pieces fall into place._

_He_ has _been here before. Every night for about two weeks he was here, until all of a sudden, the nightmares stopped._

_Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A nightmare._

_Hal continues on down the pavement at a quick pace, and Dominic pulls hard on his hand to avoid colliding with the girls._

_Hal turns around to him with a smile on his face. “Are you all right?”_

_“No, Hal, I’m not all right,” he bites out through gritted teeth. He tries to give Hal a significant look, but Hal just gives him an indulgent smile as his eyes flick towards the group of girls in front of them._

_“Hmm, I didn’t think you’d go for that kind of thing. But by all means, surprise me. I won’t object.”_

_But Dominic, by now, knows how this is supposed to go. “No, Hal,” he says again. “I’m not going to attack them. Them, or anyone else.”_

_Hal looks at him with a furrowed brow for a long moment. Then he sighs deeply and says, “Dominic, please. I understand your reluctance. I’ve seen it so many times before. The first time is difficult for all of us. But take my word for it, it gets easier after that.”_

_Dominic extracts his hand from Hal’s, then stops dead in his tracks and waits for Hal to turn around to him before he gives him a dark glare. “No, Hal,” he says a third time. “I will_ not _kill those girls, I will_ not _kill the young man that you’re going to try to seduce me with, I am_ not _going to give in to you, understand?” He breathes heavily by the end, chest rising and falling quickly._

 _Hal briefly narrows his eyes at him, but then a gentle, almost patronising look takes over his face. “Dominic,” he says, “It’s in your_ nature _to do those things. All I’m doing is help you along, to make it easier for you. Because I c—”_

 _“No, Hal,” Dominic says, yet again, as if that is the only way he can start any sentence in this horrific dream. “_ You _don’t care about me. All_ you _care about is how quickly you can mould me into exactly the recruit that you want me to be, with no regards whatsoever for what I want. That isn’t caring about someone, Hal. That’s controlling them.”_

_Hal looks at him for a while longer with that self-assured, bordering on smug expression on his face, and Dominic can feel a surge of rage building up inside as he watches him. Then Hal looks past him at something a little further down the road, before his eyes come back to Dominic and he says, “Just one moment.”_

_But Dominic is prepared for this as well, this time, and he reaches out with his new, lightning speed reflexes, and grabs hold of Hal’s arm._

_“No, Hal,” he says one more time, eyes narrowing as he faces him. “You’re not going to capture that man for me. I’m not going to give in to you, I already told you. This is not how this is going to end.”_

_“Oh no?” Hal asks with raised eyebrows. “Then pray tell, Dominic, how is this going to end?”_

_“Like this,” Dominic says. Then, perhaps with more force than he originally intended, he pushes Hal backwards, against the brick wall just behind him, before he grabs his head between both of his hands, pulls him down, and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss._

_“Mmmh, Dominic,” Hal mumbles into the kiss, genuine surprise evident in his voice, and Dominic smiles._

_“Shut up and kiss me,” he whispers, moving his lips against Hal’s, and he can feel the exact moment when Hal finally gives up on his agenda and melts into the kiss. And Dominic doesn’t let up even then, fingers carding gently through Hal’s short hair, breaths mingling together, getting heavier as they continue their heated kiss._

_There is the tiniest hitch in Hal’s breath then, almost too quiet for Dominic to notice, and a sudden, quick tensing of his body before he relaxes again, melts into him again, and then Hal’s hands circle around his waist, gently, pulling him in closer, and Dominic smiles and ends the kiss._

_Warm hazel eyes gaze into his own, a hint of confusion inside them as Hal becomes aware of their surroundings._

_“Hey,” Hal says, his voice gentle despite the slight furrow in his brow._

_“Hey,” Dominic replies, still smiling._

_Hal’s face mellows somewhat at seeing his smile, but then his brow furrows again, and he says, “Dominic.”_

_“Yes?”_

_Hal’s frown deepens. “Dominic.”_

_“Yes, Hal?” Dominic says once more, mirroring Hal’s frown._

_“You should probably wake up now,” Hal says, and Dominic’s eyes fly open._

***

Hal drives Leo’s old Mercedes along the quiet country road. They have left the busy dual carriageway a long way behind them by now, making their way through the serene Welsh countryside. A fond smile spreads on Hal’s lips as his eyes flick over to the sleeping form of Dominic next to him. He fell asleep half an hour or so after they restarted their journey, and has been in the same position ever since, leaning to the left with his head slumped forward and sideways, resting against the passenger window.

Hal takes another, closer look, only to see Dominic’s eyes moving rapidly underneath his eyelids. His face darkens at the thought of what kind of dream Dominic might be having. Hal reaches out a hand, lightly touching Dominic’s thigh.

“Hey,” he says gently.

“Hey,” Dominic mumbles back, but his eyes do not open. Hal gives him another fond smile, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the quiet road in front of him.

“Dominic,” he says. He can see Dominic stir ever so slightly, and he mumbles something unintelligible. A small crease is appearing between his brows. “Dominic,” Hal says again, a little bit louder.

“Yes, Hal?” Dominic mutters, frowning.

Hal makes sure he softens his voice when he says, “You should probably wake up now.”

Dominic’s eyelids flutter for a moment, before they slowly blink open, revealing glassy, sleep-filled blue eyes. As soon as Dominic takes notice of him, the crease disappears from between his brows, and he smiles.

“I was dreaming about you,” he says.

Hal’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Dominic confirms, his smile growing.

Hal scoffs. “And here I was, thinking you were having another nightmare.”

“I… was, at first,” Dominic says slowly, the smile vanishing from his face. “But then I… took control of the situation, and… you came out.”

“I see,” says Hal, and Dominic nods.

Then he turns to look first out the windscreen, then the passenger side window, before turning back towards Hal with a frown. “Where are we?”

“Just gone through a town called Rhayader,” Hal says, and Dominic’s frown deepens.

“How long was I asleep for?”

Hal chuckles. “A good hour at least,” he says, smiling as Dominic’s eyes widen. “I know, beats me how anyone can even _fall asleep_ after putting that much sugar and caffeine into themselves.” His eyes point to the half-empty bottle of coke and the empty chocolate bar wrapper in the space between the seats.

Dominic’s gaze follows his, before he looks back up at Hal. “I'm a seasoned tea drinker, Hal. The amount of caffeine in these drinks is miniscule. And as for the sugar… does that even work on vampires?”

Hal shrugs. “I have no idea.”

Dominic lets out a small huff. “Has been alive for five hundred years, but doesn’t know the effect of sugar on vampire metabolism.”

“I… don’t eat a lot of junk food,” Hal tries to defend himself, but Dominic just quietly smiles to himself, looking back out the window.

There is silence in the car for a long time after this, and Hal concentrates back on the winding road in front of him.

“I can’t believe I actually did it, Hal,” Dominic almost whispers eventually, making Hal glance across to him, only to see him still staring at the pretty green landscape beyond the passenger window. “I actually faced a group of humans, complete strangers, and I didn’t hurt any of them.” He turns around to Hal then, giving him a tentative smile, and Hal can’t help but smile back.

“You did very well indeed.”

Dominic’s forehead creases. “I did, didn’t I? I didn’t expect… once I got over the initial shock of all those heartbeats, and that… that _smell…_ ” he breaks off, clears his throat, then continues, “once I got over that, and I managed to get myself into a calm place, it was actually… almost easy.”

Hal sighs. “Dominic,” he says seriously, and Dominic’s smile slips off his face. Hal looks at him intently. “I just… don’t want you to become overconfident. Yes, it went well, this time around. But I want you to remember that it is still very early days, and I know from… previous experience with you… that you can get rather overenthusiastic about things at times.”

Dominic gives him a melancholic smile. “You mean like when I came to visit you at Honolulu Heights, when you were still in the chair?”

“That’s a very good example, yes,” Hal says, nodding.

Dominic shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Hal. I’m under no illusion that it’s always going to be this easy.”

“That’s good,” Hal says softly. Dominic nods, and silence falls once more. They drive along the quiet road for a while longer, each deep in their own thoughts, until it is Hal who breaks the silence. “Tell me about your grandmother,” he says, and Dominic’s head snaps around to him in surprise.

“What do you want to know about her?”

Hal shrugs. “I don’t know. What kind of woman was she? I understand she looked after you when you were a child?”

Dominic nods. “Yes, she… I’m afraid I don’t really remember her very well,” he says, frowning. “As you know, I was only five when I moved to Cardiff to live with my father, and after that, we didn’t stay in regular contact. But from what I do remember, she was…” he pauses, lets out a short laugh, “feisty, for sure, but also warm, and kind, and… caring. The exact opposite of… well, never mind.”

Hal sighs. “I’m sorry, Dominic, I didn’t want to bring up bad memories.”

“No, really, it’s all right,” Dominic says. Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “He was there, in the car with me, you know.”

Hal frowns. “Your father? What do you mean?”

“He… I don’t really know.” Dominic clears his throat. “He _appeared_ to me. In the car. Just before the crash.”

Hal takes in a sharp breath. “You never mentioned that before. Was it his… ghost?”

“No,” Dominic says instantly, shaking his head. “Like I said, he… appeared to me. Like a vision, or hallucination. It was strange…” He breaks off, glances over towards Hal and plasters on an unconvincing smile. “Well, never mind. I don’t really know why I brought it up. I suppose driving back up there is bringing back memories.”

“Of course,” says Hal. Then a frown settles on his face when he asks, “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing much,” Dominic blurts out too quickly, not meeting his eyes, and Hal’s frown deepens.

“Dominic?”

Dominic heaves a deep sigh. “He… insulted me. Called me names. And you. He… he was just there to wind me up, I think, that was the sole purpose of him being there.”

“Me?” Hal asks sharply, turning around to him to find Dominic still firmly looking the other way. “He knew about me?”

“Yes,” Dominic says quietly. “He seemed to know everything that had been going on.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “You know, it’s funny. A part of me always _wanted_ him to know, to turn in his grave with the knowledge of what his weak, undeserving embarrassment of a son had actually grown into.”

“Dominic—” Hal starts, but Dominic ignores him and continues.

“But when he was actually there, saying all those horrible things about me, about you… all it did was reinforce all the hideous lies and prejudice I had been fed ever since I was a young boy, and... worst of all, there was another part of me that _still_ just wanted to make him proud.” He looks up at Hal then, a haunted expression in his eyes. “How fucked up is that?”

Hal swallows hard. “The only fucked up thing about that,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, “is that he is not around anymore for me to fucking skin him alive for what he’s done to you.” He exhales sharply through his nostrils and turns to face Dominic, who is staring at him through huge, shocked eyes. “What?” he asks, rather more harshly than intended, and Dominic quickly shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

Hal sighs. “Dominic, I’m—”

“No,” Dominic cuts in with another brisk head shake. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please don’t take back anything you just said. Just… find somewhere where we can pull over.”

Hal’s brow creases. “I don’t think I follow.”

“Just do it, Hal,” Dominic replies, his voice croaky and quiet.

Hal lifts his eyebrows, but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

His eyes scan as far as he can see down the road in front of him, until he notices a small, deserted car park by the side of the road. He pulls in and kills the engine, but doesn’t have a chance to do anything more before Dominic is grabbing hold of his head and all but climbing into his lap as he presses a deep, passionate kiss to his lips. Hal lets out a small gasp of surprise, but kisses him back eagerly, one hand finding its way into Dominic’s hair, the other supporting his hip in his odd half-crouch across the two car seats.

“Thank you,” Dominic mumbles into the kiss after a moment.

“For saying I would skin your father alive?” Hal asks, raising his eyebrows. “Perhaps you are more fucked up than I thought.”

Dominic lets out a short, breathy laugh. “That’s what _I_ said. But, no, seriously,” he continues as he pulls away and looks deeply into Hal’s eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot, what you said. In its very own, fucked up way.”

Hal smiles. “You’re very welcome,” he says, before he leans in again for another kiss. After a long, blissful moment of lips brushing against lips, Hal pulls away, and his expression sobers. “I mean it though,” he says, looking straight into Dominic’s eyes. “I would do that and a whole lot worse if anyone ever tried to hurt you again.”

Dominic’s eyes flash black for a moment, and an almost predatory smile flits across his lips. “I really don’t want to admit how much of a turn on it is to hear you talk like that.”

“You don’t have to,” Hal says, smiling as he runs a fingertip down the side of Dominic’s face and across his lips, pushing in until he feels the tip of a sharp fang. “I can tell.”

Dominic lets out a ragged sigh. “Hal…” he breathes, and his eyes flash black again as the pad of Hal’s finger pushes back oh so carefully against his fang. “Can I…?”

Hal chuckles. “It’s still a bit early, isn’t it?” he asks, and laughs a bit louder at the small whine Dominic lets out in response. He heaves a long-suffering sigh, the effect of which is somewhat ruined by the teasing smile he can’t quite keep off his lips. “All right. But we need to make sure we stop again closer to the time. I don’t want to take any chances with you in that solicitor’s office, okay?”

“Okay,” Dominic croaks, then swallows and looks at Hal with an expression that can only be described as voracious. The tips of his fangs are now clearly visible between his slightly parted lips.

Hal would be lying if he denied the powerful surge of arousal coursing through him at the sight, and he doesn’t resist as Dominic brushes the collar of his shirt away from his neck, or when he finally leans in and sinks those sharp pointed fangs into his skin.

Dominic is less than elegant in the way he bites down, and Hal can’t help the hoarse moan that escapes him as the sharp pain spreads through his neck, or the breathy laugh that follows a moment later. “Careful there,” he says. “You don’t want to tear it up too much, or it won’t heal in time.”

Dominic lets out a noncommittal hum against his skin, but doesn’t lift his mouth away from him to answer. For a long time, the quiet sucking sound of Dominic’s lips against his neck, and the occasional muffled whimper, are the only sounds Hal can hear in the confines of the car, with the exception of the odd car or lorry going past on the road outside.

Hal starts slightly when he feels one of Dominic’s hands wandering down to the button on his jeans, fumbling to undo it, and he laughs again. “Dominic,” he says, trying to sound firm but failing miserably. “We are still out in public, you know. That’s probably not…” he breaks off and lets out a quiet moan when he feels Dominic’s tongue slipping out and lapping a stray drop of blood away from his skin. Dominic’s hand has succeeded in opening the button and is busying itself with his zip now, and despite everything, Hal can feel himself beginning to harden in his tight jeans. He squeezes his eyes shut to help him focus, clears his throat and tries again. “Dominic. Please, we shouldn’t do this here. Once we’ve dealt with the solicitor, and we get to the hotel room, I’ll be quite happy for you to do whatever you want.”

This, apparently, has got Dominic’s attention. His head lifts away from Hal’s neck, and he looks at him with big, dark, unfocused eyes. “Whatever I want?” he asks, and Hal’s eyes are immediately drawn to the bright red blood staining his lips.

“Within reason,” he breathes, and Dominic smiles wolfishly.

“I’ll take that.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hal replies, before he snakes a hand around the back of Dominic’s neck and pulls him towards him for a kiss. He can taste his own blood on Dominic’s lips, and it’s tangy and sweet and surprisingly powerful. Hal’s tongue slips out before he even knows it, and he deepens the kiss. Dominic moans into his mouth, kissing him back for a long moment, before he finally pulls away and looks at Hal once more through those huge, blown pupils that almost completely obscure the blue of his irises.

“Hal,” he breathes, “I’m…”

“Drunk, is what you are,” Hal says, a crease forming in his brow as he takes in the complete mess that is Dominic, half sitting in his lap and half hovering awkwardly in the space above the gear stick. Hal gives him a gentle push to get him to sit back down in the passenger seat, and Dominic doesn’t provide too much resistance as he flops back in the seat and turns his head to smile at Hal.

“Thanks,” he says. “That was even better than last time.”

Hal shakes his head. “How much have you had? You didn’t actually drink for that long, did you?”

“Don’t know,” Dominic says with a shrug, tongue poking out to lick across his lips again. “It was…” he drifts off then, his eyes slipping closed, and Hal huffs and turns the key in the ignition to restart the car.

“It was indeed,” he says quietly to himself, a frown growing on his face. Then he looks back towards Dominic, who has once again fallen asleep. He smiles and shakes his head, then puts the car in motion, back onto the road towards Anglesey.

***

Dominic wakes up feeling disorientated. There has been no dream this time around, no voice pulling him from his sleep, only the low, soothing drone of the engine greeting him as he slowly drifts back into wakefulness. His head feels heavy and fuzzy, and he has a hard time getting his thoughts in order. He blinks, finds that the light outside is too bright for his sensitive eyes. He carefully squints through the windscreen and sees the light brown brick structure of a large old suspension bridge looming in front of him. His eyes wander to his left, and he quickly squeezes them all the way shut as he is hit by the bright sunlight reflecting off the water’s surface.

“Oh, hey,” Hal’s voice pipes up to his right, and he whips his head around to Hal, who smiles warmly at him. “Good to see you’re back in the land of the living.”

“That’s not even remotely funny, Hal,” Dominic replies, scowling, and Hal huffs out a laugh.

“I was being serious.”

“I take it I’ve been out for a while?” Dominic asks.

Hal nods. “Couple of hours. We’re almost there.”

“Oh,” says Dominic, looking back out the front of the car at the old bridge. They make it across and through a small, picturesque town – Menai Bridge, his sluggish mind supplies him – and along the coastal road towards Beaumaris. “We should probably stop for that top-up,” he says at some point, forehead creased as he looks towards Hal.

“I’m not convinced you need a top-up,” Hal says dryly, glancing towards him briefly before he focuses back on the road. “Don’t want you to fall asleep again.”

“I won’t,” Dominic says, shaking his head. “I feel like I’ve slept enough to last me a week.”

Hal raises his eyebrows at him. “Is this just your way of asking for more blood? Because let me tell you, it’s not very subtle.”

Dominic gives him an innocent look. “Does it have to be?”

Hal chuckles and shakes his head. “God, I’ve created a monster.”

“I thought that much was obvious,” Dominic deadpans, then stops in his tracks, surprised at how very little Hal’s statement had hurt him.

Hal, oblivious to his sudden change in mood, laughs and says, “You’re worse than I ever was.”

“Now that I do want to dispute,” Dominic replies, and Hal scoffs. They continue their way down the narrow coastal road, before the trees on their right open up to give a clear view of the water beyond. Dominic points towards a small car park next to the water. “You can stop over there.”

Hal gives him a knowing smile, but pulls into the car park regardless, and they sit still and share a moment of looking out at the calm sea under the light cloud cover that is now obscuring the sun.

“Here,” Hal says, holding out his arm, sleeve rolled up to expose the soft pale skin of his wrist. Dominic can feel his mouth watering at the sight, and his fangs break through before he is even fully aware of what is happening.

“Thanks,” he breathes, and he takes hold of Hal’s arm with both hands and bites down. It feels different, odd, but undeniably arousing, to do this to someone other than himself. While he still finds a certain… appeal in the prospect of being bitten, he is surprised to find that the act of doing the biting is in fact no less appealing to him.

The sweet liquid floods his mouth, makes his body tingle and his head buzz and a sense of unshakable calm and peace wash over him, and he closes his eyes, basks in that feeling for a long moment. A quiet hum escapes his lips, reverberating against Hal’s skin. All too soon, he can feel Hal tugging his arm away from him, and he tightens his hold to get just a little bit more of that sweet taste.

“Dominic,” Hal says calmly, tugging on his arm again to free himself from Dominic’s tight grip. “Come on, that’s enough. You don’t want to fall asleep again, remember.”

Dominic lets out a disappointed hum, but slowly, reluctantly releases his grip on Hal’s wrist. Hal pulls his arm away, and Dominic lifts his eyes to look at Hal, almost losing himself in the countless shades of green and brown and gold and orange and yellow and just the tiniest hints of rusty red and aquamarine blue he can make out in Hal’s eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, confused and a little bit hurt when Hal shakes his head and snorts out a laugh.

“And you’re so goddamn drunk. We need to be with the solicitor in twenty minutes. What on Earth am I supposed to do with you?”

“I could think of a thing or two,” Dominic says, then frowns and adds, “but we’re still out in public, aren’t we? So maybe not.”

“No, most definitely not,” Hal says, rolling his eyes. Then his eyes wander out across the deserted beach in front of them and back towards Dominic, and he says, “Let’s get out of the car.”

Dominic frowns. “What?”

“Let’s… go for a walk or something. Fresh air might do you good. Come on.” While he talks, he already opens the driver’s side door and gracefully climbs out of the car, and Dominic sighs and reluctantly follows him.

As soon as he stands up from the car, two things become painfully obvious to him. A) He finds it very, _very_ hard to keep his balance. And b) Hal, for some reason, is finding this whole situation hilarious. He looks at him with a wide smile on his face that only serves to make Dominic scowl harder.

“What?” he asks again, narrowing his eyes as Hal reaches out to steady him with a supportive hand on his bicep.

“Nothing,” Hal replies. Once he has finally found his balance, Hal’s hand wanders down to take hold of his own, lightly pulling him along, and he says, “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

Dominic sighs, but follows Hal along the empty beach, taking deep breaths, letting the salty sea air fill his lungs. It smells like home.

They walk in silence for a while, and at some point Hal’s hand lets go of his and snakes around his waist instead, holding him, warm and reassuring. Dominic snuggles up to him, his own arm reaching out and around Hal in the same way. They stop at the tip of the headland, looking out towards the sea, and Dominic turns around to take in Hal, his perfect smooth pale skin and those gorgeous eyes, a smile on his face as warm as the arm that holds him close, and he says, “I love you.” Hal’s smile slips off his lips, and Dominic’s face falls. “Hal?”

Hal clears his throat, and the smile is back, but it’s a sad one now. “I just… I wish you could tell me that when you’re not off your head on blood,” he says quietly. Dominic opens his mouth to argue, but Hal quickly shakes his head and adds, “Don’t say it isn’t true, Dominic, I know it is. And I understand it. I understand that what I did to you is unforgivable. But that doesn’t make it any easier.” Hal looks deep into his eyes then, and Dominic once again finds himself lost in those hazel depths, until they move in closer, too close to get a clear view anymore, and a split-second later he feels soft warm lips touching his own, one brief, tender kiss, over almost as soon as it has begun. “I love you too,” Hal says quietly. Then he takes a step back and looks along the beach, back towards the car park. “We should probably go. Don’t want to leave the solicitor waiting.”

***

The five minute drive through the town feels like a blur to Dominic, and before he knows it, Hal is parking the car outside a white-painted brick building with a small, unassuming brass sign next to the door that reads ‘Baker and Cahill Solicitors’.

Dominic stares at the sign for a long moment, until Hal’s voice interrupts the silence.

“Dominic?”

“Hmm?” he replies, looking at Hal with a small frown on his face.

Hal chokes out a laugh. “Oh God, you’re still completely wasted.”

“Am not,” Dominic retorts, narrowing his eyes at Hal, but somewhere far at the back of his mind, there is a voice that tells him that his answer proves that he most definitely is. It doesn’t completely make sense to him, since he quite clearly said he _isn’t_ , but he is not going to start arguing with himself.

“Fair enough,” Hal says, a teasing smile on his face as he gets out of the car. Dominic follows suit, once again swaying ever so slightly in place as he tries to find his balance. “Mm, not drunk at all I see,” Hal comments, and Dominic glares at him.

“I’m doing my best here, all right? I didn’t ask for this.”

Hal leans in close to him, one steadying hand landing at the small of his back, and whispers into his ear, “Actually, that is exactly what you did.” Then he takes a step back, smiles and says, “But either way, we’re here now, so… shall we?”

Dominic nods, and the next thing he knows, Hal’s hand at the small of his back is guiding him towards the door, he pushes it open and finds himself in an unexpectedly bright and modern reception area.

“Good afternoon, sirs,” a bubbly voice says, and Dominic’s eyes fall on a strawberry blonde woman with a bright smile sitting behind the reception desk. “How can we help you today?”

Dominic finds himself transfixed by her, her smile showing off brilliant white teeth, her hair the exact colour of a cold winter sunset, her veins standing out purple and blue against her pale skin—

Hal clears his throat loudly, increasing his hand’s pressure against his back, and says, “Thank you, we are here for an appointment with…” he trails off, and Dominic looks around to see him giving him an expectant look.

“Oh,” he says, watching Hal’s expression become ever more impatient as he searches his brain for the man’s name. He knows it. He has spoken to him twice now. The name is… “Baker,” he says, mustering a small smile as he looks back at the receptionist. “Ross Baker.”

“Ah, of course,” the receptionist says, and Dominic’s eyes once again wander from her face, down her neck, towards— “You must be Mr Rook.”

“Yes,” he chokes out almost automatically, forcing his eyes away from her neck. They land on Hal instead, and he says, “This is my partner, Hal Yorke. He… I would like him to be present when I speak to Mr Baker.”

“Of course, sir, that’s no problem at all,” the receptionist says, looking at something on her computer screen for a moment, before she looks back up at Dominic, and he keeps his eyes fixed on hers this time. They are steel grey, he notices. “Thank you, Mr Rook. If you want to take a seat over there, I will let Mr Baker know you're here.”

Dominic finds that he can’t tear his eyes away from her, from the way her forehead creases ever so slightly as she looks back at him, and now there are other sensations coming to the foreground, like the smell of her perfume that barely covers up the enticing, sweet scent of the blood under her skin, and the quiet, rhythmic, soothing pounding of her heartbeat.

He is startled out of his thoughts by Hal’s hand tightening around his waist, leading him in the direction of a small group of chairs along the wall. “Dominic,” he says quietly into his ear. “Let’s go sit down.”

“Hmm,” Dominic replies, because he doesn’t find the words to say instead. He allows Hal to steer him towards the chairs, and he wordlessly takes a seat. His eyes wander towards the receptionist again before he is even aware what he is doing, and he watches as she picks up a phone receiver and lifts it to her ear. The way she tilts her head gives him an uninterrupted view of her neck, and his eyes fix on where he knows the large neck vein is closest to the surface—

“Dominic,” Hal says again, louder, and Dominic whirls around to him.

“Yes?”

“I need you to calm down, okay,” Hal says, looking at him urgently. “You don’t want to manifest in here.”

“Why would I…?” Dominic asks, confused.

Hal snorts. “Just… focus on me, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, because, really, there are worse things to focus on.

“Good.” Hal’s eyes are warm and soothing, grounding. Dominic can physically feel himself relax, and he frowns, his confusion growing. He never even noticed himself tensing up in the first place.

“Mr Rook,” the receptionist calls some time later. It would be impossible for Dominic to say how much time has passed, because the world feels weird, out of kilter around him, but he looks up and smiles at her as she addresses him. “Mr Baker is ready to see you now,” she adds, gesturing to one of the doors at the back of the reception area.

Dominic nods and stands. “Thank you,” he says, turning around to Hal, who is standing up with him.

“Ready?” Hal asks, and he nods again. They cross the reception area, and Dominic gives the door a careful knock, and enters.

Baker’s office is just as bright as the reception area, with modern, no-frill, glass and gloss-white furniture, and behind a large desk in the middle of the room sits a man in an expensive dark blue suit, short dark hair carefully slicked back and a reserved smile on his face as he regards the two men entering his office.

“Mr Rook,” he says, stretching his hand out towards Dominic. He reluctantly shakes it… and is all but overwhelmed by the sheer _heat_ of the man’s skin as it touches his own and sends a surge of electricity through his entire body. He quickly withdraws his hand, and Baker’s smile slips a fraction, but he quickly catches himself and gestures towards the two chairs in front of the desk instead. “Please, have a seat,” he says, before his eyes wander across to Hal. “And Mr…”

“Yorke,” Hal says, extending his hand and firmly shaking Baker’s before he takes a seat next to Dominic.

“Please forgive me for asking, sir,” Baker continues, giving Hal a scrutinising look, “but you are Mr Rook’s… friend?”

“Partner,” Hal corrects him, and Dominic feels a strong surge of warmth run through him at the word. He gives Hal a bright smile, earning himself a small eye roll in return. He frowns.

“ _Civil_ partner?” Baker asks, and Hal shakes his head.

“No, we’re not…” he clears his throat, an unreadable expression crossing his face, before he shakes his head once more and repeats, “No.”

“Right,” Baker says. “Thank you, Mr Yorke.”

He looks back towards Dominic then, who gulps in a deep breath when he realises that he hasn’t been breathing for the last little while. He regrets his decision straight away when the scent of the man’s blood fills his nostrils. It smells different to the receptionist’s, different to Natasha’s, different to any other blood he has ever smelled before. Not that he has an awful lot of experience. The man must have a rare blood type, he decides.

“…matter of your grandmother’s estate,” the man’s voice drifts over to him, and Dominic’s eyes dart up to see him giving him an expectant look.

He swallows, nods, and says, “Yes, that’s right,” silently hoping that that is an acceptable answer.

It seems to be, as the man smiles and continues, “As I already told you, the largest part of the inheritance is the cottage situated at LL58 8TB.”

“Yes,” Dominic says distractedly, as his eyes fix on the way one of the man’s hands absentmindedly scratches a spot under the collar of his shirt for a moment. He is wearing a medium grey tie, done up expertly with a flawless knot. The skin just above the collar is slightly reddened where he scratched it, and Dominic tries to visualise all the tiny capillaries in his skin that cause that delicious extra colour to appear—

“…chance to visit the property during your visit?” Baker says, and Dominic tears his eyes away and lets out a small cough.

“Er…”

“We were hoping to, yes,” Hal speaks up next to him, and he turns towards him with a grateful smile. Hal looks back at him with raised eyebrows for a moment, mouthes, “Focus.” Dominic nods, but apparently a nod is not enough, as Hal lets out a quiet huff, turns back to the solicitor, and continues, “Obviously it’s getting a little bit late today, and we’ve had a long, tiring drive, so…”

“Of course,” Baker replies. “We could arrange for you to view the property tomorrow?”

He looks back and forth between Dominic and Hal, and Dominic finds himself nodding again, while Hal says, “Yes, that would work well for us, thank you.”

“Excellent,” Baker says with a firm nod of his head. “I will let my colleague know, and she will meet you at the property at… shall we say 10am?”

“10am,” Dominic repeats, swallowing down the saliva that is accumulating in his mouth. And there is a pesky itch in his gums as well. He distractedly runs his tongue over the sore spots when he notices both Baker’s and Hal’s eyes boring into him, and he looks up, swallows again. “Excuse me, I… what was the ques—”

“10am is fine,” Hal speaks up, and then there is a hand firmly taking hold of his own, squeezing ever so slightly, and Dominic looks over to him again. Hal gives him a look that is full of some kind of meaning, but the meaning is lost on Dominic, who throws him a quizzical look of his own.

“What?” he asks, only for Hal to give him another look, and Dominic lets out a frustrated sigh. Why doesn’t Hal just _say_ what he wants to say?

“Is... something the matter?” Baker pipes up somewhere to his left. Dominic’s head whips around to him, and his eyes are feeling itchy now, too. He has an almost overwhelming urge to blink—

Hal’s hand squeezing his once more interrupts the movement, and he looks back towards Hal, who loudly says, “You’re not looking so good. I think perhaps you could do with some fresh air.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” Baker’s voice says somewhere, but it’s quiet, as if coming from a great distance. There is a rhythmic, pulsing, rushing noise in his ears that is blocking out most of everything else.

Hal his tugging on his hand then, and he has no choice but to stand up, and he follows along as Hal leads him through the door and across the reception area, where the receptionist throws a quick, “See you later,” their way, but he hasn’t got a chance to reply as they are already through the front door, out on the pavement, and then the deafening, roaring noise is gone, leaving a faint, phantom ringing in his ears.

And before he even has a chance to make sense of anything, to ask what is happening, he is sitting back in the passenger seat of the car, and he slowly looks around to see Hal turning the key in the ignition.

“Hal?” he asks, startled by the volume of his own voice in the perfect silence that has settled around them. His eyes aren’t itching anymore, and his eyelids are growing heavy, so very heavy.

“It’s all right now,” Hal says, turning towards him with a thin smile. “You’re safe. Just hold on a few more minutes, and we can get you into bed.”

Dominic feels a smile spread on his own lips. “Are you going to be there as well?”

Hal snorts. “It’s a bit early for me to sleep yet, Dominic.” He lets out a small noise of protest, and Hal quickly adds, “But I’ll be there with you.”

“Promise?” he asks, and his tongue is feeling heavy now, too. Sleep does sound like a very good option, indeed.

“Promise,” Hal says, one hand briefly brushing over the back of his own. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s okay then,” Dominic mumbles, and allows his eyes to slip closed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So why is Dominic quite _so_ drunk? I'm sure you've already figured it out, but if not, let me assure you that there most definitely is a reason for it.


	17. The Cottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I'm sorry for the slight delay in posting this chapter. As so often happened in the past, this chapter became too long and had to be split in two, and I was hoping to be able to post both parts tonight, but unfortunately I didn't quite get it all finished. So here is the first part for you either way, I hope you like it!

Home at last  
It's the place that you long for  
You're tired of living, tired of life

\- Feeder, “Sonorous”

 

The next time Dominic opens his eyes, he is greeted by near complete darkness. His head feels heavy and too big for his skull, and there is a leaden heaviness to his limbs as well as he props himself up. He is lying in a bed, clad in only his boxers and tucked into a heavy, warm, comforting feather duvet. Disorientation sets in as he slowly lets his eyes wander around a surprisingly spacious room, with floor-length blackout curtains covering a large window on one side. There is a desk and a wall-mounted TV against another wall, neither of which look the slightest bit familiar. 

Dominic frowns and turns around in bed – a large bed, much larger than his and Hal’s back at Honolulu Heights – and his anxiety ebbs somewhat when his eyes fall on Hal, asleep, facing him with a relaxed, peaceful expression on his face. 

Dominic smiles and reaches out a hand, lightly brushing the very tips of his fingers along the side of Hal’s face. He is so beautiful.

_“You're so beautiful.”_

A fragment of a memory flashes through Dominic’s mind. Him standing on a beach, next to him Hal, an arm slung casually around his waist as he looks out towards the sea. 

He frowns. The last thing he remembers with any certainty is sitting in the car next to Hal, stopping in a car park on the side of the road, because he asked Hal to, because he wanted to hold him and kiss him and thank him for something… for what, exactly, he can’t seem to remember. 

And he did kiss him, he thinks, he remembers that kiss, and then…

Oh. 

Of course. Then, he was swept away by the monster’s unsavoury urges, and however much he tries to shed light on it, the rest of the day lies in darkness

Dominic sighs and lets his head fall back on the pillow, staring at the faint shadows dancing across the ceiling from where the first sunlight breaks in through the small space above the curtains. He still remembers the way Hal’s blood felt on his tongue, the indescribable feeling of it running down his throat, the tingling arousal surging through his body as it started to affect him, and he tries, he really tries to feel regret and disgust at himself for giving in to the urge once again, but deep down, all he can feel is yearning. 

Trying to steer his thoughts into safer waters, he once again turns his head to his right and takes in Hal’s face, so very young and innocent in his sleep. It is almost inconceivable that this is the same Hal that has been haunting his nightmares for the last month now, persuading him to give in to his vampiric nature time and time again. Lying here next to Dominic in this huge hotel bed, pristine white covers coming halfway up his naked chest, curled up on his side with one hand resting next to his face on the pillow, he doesn’t look a day older than the twenty-four years of his human life.

It’s the eyes, Dominic realises with a lump in his throat. Those ancient eyes, whether they are cold and callous, mocking, joking, or gentle and loving, they always reflect the centuries of experience that Hal carries on his shoulders. Now, here, lying asleep with his eyes firmly closed, he painfully reminds Dominic of the Hal he met in purgatory, the sad, broken young man in the Polish inn with a cut on his cheek, and he suddenly, irrationally wishes he could have got to know that Hal. Before… everything changed.

But now, he reminds himself, _he_ is changed as well. And either way, there is no going back in time. Not in real life anyway, as much as Leo may have seen it as a genuine possibility. Dominic smiles to himself at the memory.

“Mmmh, now there’s a nice sight to wake up to.”

Dominic starts at the sound of Hal’s voice, and his eyes dart back up to Hal’s own to find them open and playfully looking back at him.

“Good morning,” Dominic says, surprised at how croaky his voice sounds, and Hal laughs.

“Good morning to you too. How’s your head?”

The smile slips off Dominic’s face immediately. “I’m fine,” he mumbles, looking down, but he can still see out of the corner of his eye as Hal shakes his head and brings up a hand to his chin to get him to look up at him again.

“It’s all right, Dominic, you don’t need to feel bad about what happened,” he says, eyes boring into Dominic’s own, before the very corners of his mouth lift in a smile he seems unable to suppress, and he adds, “Well, mostly, anyway.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “What do you mean, mostly? What… what happened?”

Hal’s smile grows on his lips. “You mean you don’t remember?”

Dominic looks back at him defiantly for a moment, even as the horror grows inside of him at what could have possibly happened to have Hal so amused. Finally, he swallows, shakes his head, and says, “No, I don’t.”

“None of it?” Hal asks incredulously.

Dominic shakes his head again. “Not after we sat in the car and I… well. You know.” He frowns, adds, “I remember walking along a beach. Did we go to a beach?”

Hal lets out a deep laugh. “Yes, Blondie, we did go to a beach. I thought the fresh air would clear your head somewhat, but it didn’t do much good, to be honest.” He pauses, shakes his head, his brow creasing even as there is still a smile playing on his lips. “In all my life I’ve never seen anyone get that drunk on vampire blood before. You really are a bit of a mystery.”

“Do you think it’s because I’ve never had human blood?” Dominic asks, and Hal bites his lip in thought.

“I’m honestly not sure. But whatever the reason, we’re going to have to be more careful next time.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow, and an uncomfortable weight settles into his stomach. “You still haven’t told me what actually happened.”

Hal huffs. “You really don’t remember that you were practically one step away from leaping across the reception desk and tearing that receptionist’s throat out?” he asks, grinning even as Dominic’s eyes widen in horror.

“I… what?” he chokes out, and then, “Receptionist?”

“Yeah,” Hal replies, nodding fervently. “Blondish-ginger girl? Your eyes were literally _all over_ her. If I didn’t know the blood was to blame, I could’ve got quite jealous, truth be told.”

“I’m… not into girls,” Dominic croaks weakly, and Hal lets out another laugh.

“Oh God, you’re so cute sometimes,” he says, then leans in and lightly pecks Dominic’s lips. Dominic can’t help the small smile that forms on his lips at the contact, even as his brow furrows when Hal pulls away.

“Could you please stop calling me that.”

Hal raises his eyebrows at him. “What, cute?”

“Yes,” Dominic says with a firm nod, then continues in a quieter voice, “Especially not after I’ve clearly put at least one innocent human at risk and—” he cuts himself off, a brand new, even more horrific thought surfacing in his mind. “The solicitor…?” he asks carefully.

“…is absolutely fine,” Hal says, smiling. “Do you really think I would lie here, laughing and joking with you, if something serious had happened?”

“No, of course not,” Dominic replies, shaking his head, but despite his words he lets out a deep sigh of relief. 

Hal brings one hand up to carefully card through his hair. “So, anyway, how _are_ you feeling today?”

Dominic opens his mouth to brush the question off with another _‘Fine’_ , but a different reply stumbles out past his lips instead. “I could do with a top-up,” he says, and quickly averts his eyes.

Hal sighs. “Dominic,” he says, but Dominic doesn’t immediately look back up this time. A deep sense of shame settles into him as he realises quite how strong the urge is inside of him. Letting out another, deeper sigh, Hal says, “Dominic. Please, look at me.” Reluctantly, Dominic meets Hal’s eyes and finds them full of understanding and concern. “Perhaps you should have some actual breakfast instead,” he suggests. “We can order room service.”

“I—” Dominic starts, but once again stops himself, tries on a small, brittle smile, nods, and says, “Yes, thank you. That might be a good idea.”

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it to you now, but it will help,” Hal assures, brushing his hand down the side of his face before he snakes it around the back of his neck and pulls him closer, briefly resting their foreheads together before he leans in for another gentle kiss. “You can have a little more later,” he says quietly as he pulls away, and Dominic hates the way his stomach flutters at the words. 

He swallows, smiles and says, “Thank you.”

Hal returns his smile. “As long as you don’t overdo it. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday when we go and view the property.”

“From what you’ve told me, I can assure you I don’t, either,” Dominic says with a shudder. 

Hal lets out another quiet chuckle, then pulls away and sits up, reaching behind him for the room service menu. He settles against the headboard of the bed, and Dominic joins him a moment later, leaning in close to have a look at the menu. They both choose the continental breakfast with a cup of tea, as Dominic doesn’t feel he could possibly stomach a cooked breakfast, and Hal never eats an awful lot, anyway. Hal picks up the phone from the bedside table and dials, an arm snaking around Dominic’s back to pull him in close while he is placing their order, and Dominic allows himself to snuggle up close to him for a moment. 

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed their closeness in those lonely first few weeks, and sitting here like this, he can’t imagine ever giving this up again.

“I missed you,” he says quietly. His eyes wander up to take in Hal’s face just in time to see a bittersweet smile settling on Hal’s lips.

“I missed you too.”

“I’m s—” he starts, but Hal holds a finger up to his lips to stop him, quickly shaking his head.

“Don’t say it, please. You have nothing to apologise for. Let’s just… look forward, not back, okay?”

“Okay,” Dominic says, settling back into Hal’s embrace, until a waft of a smell makes his head whip around towards the door. His nostrils flare involuntarily, and he tenses. “Room service is here,” he whispers a split second before there is a knock on the door.

Hal carefully extracts himself from him. “I’ll get it,” he says, getting up and walking towards the door. “You just… wait there.”

Dominic just nods, big eyes watching as Hal throws on a t-shirt before swiftly opening the door, all but wrestling the tray out of the poor, unsuspecting man’s hands, and throwing the door closed again with a quick “Thanks”. Then he carries the tray over towards the bed, climbs back in next to Dominic, and smiles widely at him.

“Breakfast in bed, huh?” Dominic asks with a smile of his own.

Hal raises his eyebrows. “And why not?”

“No reason,” Dominic says nonchalantly, before he tears off a piece of one of the croissants, adds a large dollop of jam, and brings it up to Hal’s mouth. Hal, surprised, accepts the offered food, chews and swallows before he leans in for a quick kiss. 

“Thanks,” he says. “But the breakfast was mainly for you, not me.”

“Well,” Dominic says, preparing another piece of croissant before putting it in his own mouth. He chews, swallows, and says, “You know I don’t like eating alone.”

“All right,” Hal says with a smile and a sigh, accepting another mouthful from Dominic. And so they continue until all the food is gone, and Dominic is starting to feel a lead weight filling his stomach. He takes a large gulp of tea in the hope of alleviating the feeling, but to no avail.

He sighs. “I think I’ve eaten too much.”

“No,” Hal says, shaking his head. “You’re just hungover. Give it an hour or so, and you’ll feel better.”

Dominic sighs and nods. “Okay.” Then he looks up at Hal again, and a small smile spreads on his face at the sight of strawberry jam smeared across Hal’s lips. “You’ve got…” he starts, then drifts off and leans in for a kiss instead, tongue poking out to lick away the sticky red sweetness from Hal’s lips. 

“Thanks,” Hal mumbles against his mouth. “Very thoughtful of you.”

“Mmmh, you’re very welcome,” Dominic replies. “My pleasure.”

“I’m sure it is,” Hal says before he leans in again, this kiss deeper, longer, more sensual, and Dominic feels his body responding as he hungrily kisses him back, feels the arousal surge through him, making his stomach flutter and his cock twitch and his gums itch, and he moans loudly as Hal’s fingers once again card through his hair. 

Dominic’s own hand wanders down Hal’s t-shirt-clad chest, down, down, until he feels the unmistakable bulge of Hal’s growing erection under his fingertips, and he brushes his hand against it, drawing a breathy moan from Hal that quickly turns into a hoarse chuckle as he reaches down and pulls Dominic’s hand away from him.

“Regrettably, I don’t think we really have time for that right now,” he says, gently brushing his thumb over Dominic’s lips. Dominic presses a closed-lipped kiss to Hal’s thumb, and Hal smiles. “We’re due to meet the solicitor at the cottage in—” he glances down at his watch, then back up at Dominic, “—less than an hour.” Dominic sighs, a disappointed frown settling on his face, and Hal cups his cheek and leans in for another quick peck. “We’ll continue this later.”

“Is that a promise?” Dominic asks, eyes boring into Hal’s as the other’s fingertips brush against the rough stubble on his cheek. 

The expression in Hal’s eyes is equally intense, and it makes a shiver of anticipation run down Dominic’s spine. “That’s a promise.”

Dominic swallows, nods. “Okay then,” he croaks out, then slowly disentangles himself from Hal, his eyes darting over towards the ensuite. “I should probably go and have a shower. And…” he pauses, and his face darkens momentarily when he grinds out, “I need a shave.”

“You do rather,” Hal agrees, fingers brushing once more against the stubble on his cheek before he pulls away. Dominic is about to get up off the bed when Hal speaks up again behind him, “Just a word of warning, the wall above the sink is basically one giant mirror.”

Dominic freezes, then scowls back at Hal over his shoulder. “We should’ve checked for that before we booked the place.”

Hal’s eyebrows shoot up, and he once again looks like he is trying very hard to suppress a smile. “And how were we supposed to do that? ‘Excuse me, but how large are your bathroom mirrors?’”

Dominic’s scowl only deepens. “Something like that, yes,” he says. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “No, never mind. I said that I’m done running and hiding, and I meant it. I’m…” his voice breaks, and he clears his throat and continues, “I’m ready to face what I am.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hal says with a smile.

Dominic nods, takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open to the ensuite.

***

Forty-five minutes later, after a shower, a shave and a rather miniscule amount of blood that nonetheless led to another passionate make-out session, the baby blue Mercedes is speeding down the narrow road towards Dominic’s grandmother’s cottage.

Hal’s eyes dart over to him as they make their way through a small village. “You okay?”

Dominic nods. “I’m fine. I’m… not feeling too spaced out. More like the first time I had your blood.” He pauses, frowns. “Yesterday… was different.”

Hal snorts. “You’re not kidding.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Hal,” Dominic snaps, turning around to face the other man, “I’m not exactly an expert on the variable effects of vampire blood, am I? I have no idea what happened yesterday. To be honest, I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light…”

“Not a clue, sorry,” Hal says with a shrug, then gives Dominic another quick look and says, “Do you mind just giving the solicitors a ring and letting them know we’re running late? I don’t want them to wait around wondering where we are.”

“Of course,” Dominic says and gets his phone out of his pocket. He looks through his contacts for the solicitors’ number, dials… and is greeted with nothing but silence. Frowning, he takes a look at his phone screen. “No signal,” he says to Hal, who rolls his eyes.

“What good is all this modern technology nonsense if it never actually works?” he asks exasperatedly, and Dominic smiles fondly.

“I forget how weird all this must be for you, sometimes. So many things must have changed since… well, since you were born.”

Hal huffs out a laugh. “In most cases, that’s a good thing.”

Dominic chuckles. “I don’t doubt that. But still, it must’ve been difficult to adjust to all these changes over time.”

Hal swallows. “The last sixty years have been difficult,” he says quietly. “But that’s mostly because I wasn’t really able to keep up with anything, because…”

“Because you locked yourself away,” Dominic finishes for him, and Hal nods.

“Yes. And also because technological advances in the last fifty years or so have just… skyrocketed. I don’t know.” He shrugs, and Dominic smiles again.

“No, you’re right.” He looks at Hal for a long time, his smile growing wider with every passing moment, until Hal turns back towards him with a small frown on his face.

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Dominic replies. “Just… hearing you talk like that, it makes you sound like an old man.”

“I am an old man, Dominic,” Hal says, deadpan.

Dominic stares at him for another long moment, then shakes his head. “No, you’re not.”

Hal laughs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond further, and silence falls as they drive along the progressively narrow rural lane towards the cottage. 

“Wow, this is… remote,” Hal says at one point, eyes flicking towards Dominic before focusing back on the road. There is a furrow in his brow as he takes in the scenery around them. “You actually grew up here?”

Dominic nods. “For the first five years of my life,” he says, his own eyes gazing across the trees and fields that somehow look new and familiar all at the same time. After all, he hasn’t been here for a very long time. “It being remote was the whole point,” he continues after a moment. “After my grandfather… after he died, my grandmother took my father and moved as far away from the city as she could get, to try and protect him from any… attacks.”

“Vampire attacks, you mean,” Hal says.

Dominic swallows. “Yes. Well, anyway, so when I was born, my mother and father made the decision that I should be brought up there as well, away from everything, to keep me safe. My father was still in Cardiff most of the time of course, but my mother and I stayed with my grandmother at the cottage. When my mother fell ill, my grandmother started to look after me, and that’s all I can remember. I don’t… really have any memories of my mother.” He pauses, and Hal looks like he is about to say something, so he quickly shakes his head and says, “No, Hal, don’t, please. It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “Two years later, my mother died.”

“And that’s when you moved to Cardiff,” Hal finishes, and he nods. 

“Yes.” Silence falls once more as they continue on down the narrow lane, until off in the distance, the familiar cottage comes into view, and Dominic can feel an odd flutter in his stomach.

Hal, it seems, has picked up on his sudden tension, as he reaches out a hand and lightly touches Dominic’s arm. “You okay?” he asks again.

Dominic nods. “I’m fine,” he says, looking out he window as the car comes to a halt next to a silver BMW in front of the old stone cottage. “Just… weird being back here.”

“I know what you mean,” Hal says, and Dominic has a sudden flashback to their visit to Hal’s former home. The thought brings with it an unfortunate reminder of what happened later that night, and he quickly shuts it down.

“Yes,” he says, nodding. Then he throws Hal a small smile and reaches out to open the passenger door. “Let’s go.”

Hal smiles back at him and nods, getting out of the car on the other side, then meets him again by the front of the car and reaches out to take his hand into his own, just as the door of the BMW opens and a young brunette woman gets out, throwing them a curious look.

“Are you Mr Rook and Mr Yorke?” she asks.

Dominic nods, “Yes, indeed.” he says, trying not to focus on the sound of her heartbeat or the smell of her blood on the breeze. “I’m sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” the woman says quickly, a fleeting smile crossing her lips. 

Dominic holds out his free hand to her, the other one still firmly clasped in Hal’s. “Nice to meet you, I’m Dominic Rook,” he says.

The woman takes a step towards them, her face darkening for just a fraction of a second as her eyes fall on their joint hands, before she looks back up at each of them in turn and gives them a thin smile. Then, realising that Dominic is still holding his hand out to her, she gives it a brisk shake and says, “Amber Thomson, I’m one of the junior partners in the firm. Ross – Mr Baker – asked me to show you around the property.”

“Thank you, Miss Thomson,” Hal says politely next to him, but Dominic can’t help but notice the slightly frosty note in his voice. Hal obviously didn’t miss her look either. She nonetheless shakes Hal’s offered hand as well.

“Right,” Miss Thomson says then, looking towards the cottage. “Shall we?”

They follow her to the front door, which is quickly being unlocked, and the solicitor is just about to step inside in front of him when Dominic asks, “Excuse me, Miss Thomson?”

She turns around and gives him a quizzical look. “Yes, Mr Rook?”

Dominic clears his throat. “Er… I’m not sure if we clarified this yesterday, but I was just wondering… legally, do I already _own_ the property?”

“Well, you as good as do,” Miss Thomson says, frowning at his odd question. “I mean, you’re the sole heir, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Dominic says. “But what I mean is… is it actually legally _my_ property?”

Hal leans in close to him and whispers under his breath, “Just try it and see.”

Dominic gives him an almost imperceptible shake of the head, his eyes fixed on Miss Thomson, who looks thoroughly nonplussed. “Well, I suppose technically…” she starts, then pauses and thinks for a moment. “Have you signed the papers yet?”

Dominic throws a questioning look towards Hal, who shakes his head. 

“Doesn’t look like it, no,” Dominic says. 

Miss Thomson narrows her eyes as she looks back and forth between himself and Hal for a moment, then shakes her head and says, “In that case, no, it isn’t legally yours yet. But it really doesn’t make any difference, it’s just a matter of a couple of signatures.” She shrugs, then turns back around and steps over the threshold.

Dominic walks up to the door with a sudden tightness spreading in his chest, and he carefully inches forward until his foot comes up against an impenetrable, invisible barrier. A small, surprised hiccup escapes his mouth, even though he has been expecting it, and Hal gives his hand a small squeeze as they both stand and wait for the solicitor to turn around.

And she does a moment later, a frown on her face as she looks back at them. “Well, what are you waiting for out there? Come on in.”

The moment the words pass her lips, Dominic feels the invisible barrier in front of him dissipate, and he lets out a long, relieved breath as he steps over the threshold, pulling Hal along behind him by their still joint hands. 

As soon as he sets foot in the narrow hallway, Dominic feels a sense of a soothing familiarity wash over him, and he allows his eyes to wander around, to take in the place that used to be his home more than thirty years ago. 

_“Remember what I told you, Dommy. Take your boots off before you come back in, or you’re going to mop the floors for me,” his grandmother’s voice drifts in from the kitchen, and Dominic freezes with one foot in the air, then carefully retraces his steps backwards to the front door, one, two, three, four, five steps, because Grandma taught him how to count a while ago. He’s a smart boy, she said, and counting and spelling are not things that he has to wait to go to school for to learn._

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, who is it now?” 

The voice is so familiar, so _expected_ in his memory, that it takes Dominic a long moment to register that it is not part of the memory. 

“Can’t an old woman have a moment’s peace around here?” 

A lump forms in Dominic’s throat as he traces the direction of the voice to what he clearly remembers to be the kitchen. He takes a look around him and sees Hal a few steps in front of him, walking down the narrow hallway after the solicitor, and Dominic, as inconspicuously as possible, pushes open the kitchen door, takes a step into the room, looks up… and his breath catches in his throat as he sees her in front of him, standing by the stove in a fluffy white dressing gown covering her standard NHS hospital gown. She looks in his direction with a wide, surprised smile on her face. 

“Dommy?”

“Grandma?” he breathes before he even has a chance to think about it, and within a fraction of a second, he sees the smile on her face freeze and fall off, and in its place there is an expression of sadness and horror.

“Oh God, Dommy, no…” She staggers back a couple of steps until she bumps into the stove behind her, never once taking his eyes off him despite the raw pain of her realisation. “Who… who did this to you?”

Dominic finds that he can’t get the words out past the large lump in his throat. He stares with wide, pleading eyes at his grandmother’s ghost, who looks back at him in shocked disbelief for a long, silent moment. Then the expression in her eyes changes again, becomes unreadable, and Dominic starts as he hears Hal’s voice behind him.

“Did I hear you talk to s—” he suddenly breaks off, taking in a sharp breath.

“Hal,” Dominic croaks without turning around, his eyes fixed on the ghost in front of him. “Please meet my grandmother, Geraldine Rook. Grandma,” he adds, looking straight into her eyes, “this is… Hal.”

A long, loaded silence follows his words, in which Dominic can feel heavy glances being thrown back and forth, but no one seems to know what to say.

Hal, it seems, is the first to recover. He stretches out his hand, puts on his most understated, charming smile, and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Rook.”

Dominic eyes follow Hal’s gaze to his grandmother, who gives Hal’s outstretched hand a revolted look, takes another step back and says, “You’re the one who turned him.”

Hal swallows and looks helplessly at Dominic, who shrugs and nods. Hal turns back towards his grandmother then, nervous eyes flitting back and forth between her and the floor in front of him as he says, “Yes, ma’am.”

His grandmother takes one more look from Hal’s still outstretched hand to the apprehensive half-smile on his face, then narrows her eyes dangerously and, in a voice as icy as the January wind that howls through the cracks in the walls, snarls, “Get out of my house, you vile creature.”

“Grandma, no!” Dominic exclaims, eyes widening.

“You stay out of this, Dom,” she says curtly, before turning back towards Hal. “Well? What are you waiting for? You're not welcome in my home. Get out.” 

Hal gives Dominic a resigned look and backs away, but Dominic flings out a hand and takes hold of Hal’s sleeve, pulling him back towards him. 

“Grandma, please—”

“What did I just tell you, Dominic?” his grandmother says, her eyes flicking down towards Dominic’s hand holding on to Hal, before they once more land on Hal, and her expression is hard as stone as she says, “I rescind the invitation. Get out of my house.”

Dominic can’t breathe for a long moment, finds that he is rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch and wait for Hal to be magically pulled back out of the house, or burst into flames in front of him, or both at the same time. But nothing at all happens, and they once again stand in silence for a long, agonising moment, before the solicitor’s voice drifts in from the hallway.

“Ah, this is where you've disappeared to.”

Dominic whirls around to her and clears his throat. “Er, yes, we…”

“Stupid woman,” his grandmother says indignantly behind him, and he thinks perhaps it is the tension of the last five minutes finally getting the better of him, but somethingabout the way she says it strikes Dominic as immensely funny. He does his best to suppress the grin that threatens to break out on his face.

“…we were just having a look around the… kitchen,” he finishes, the last word no more than a faint afterthought. 

“That's all right,” Miss Thomson says, shrugging. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Hal pipes up next to him then, and all Dominic can think is, _How are you still here?_ “In actual fact,” Hal continues, “Why don't you make your way back to the office. We can have a thorough look around, and then we can come and meet you back there to finish off the paperwork.”

“I'm not supposed to—”

“We’re hardly going to set the place on fire or something, are we?” Hal continues with a disarming smile. Miss Thomson, however, still looks dubious.

“Hal's right,” Dominic chimes in. “There are… a lot of memories for me here. I'd really like some quiet time to have a good look around, and we've taken up too much of your time already.”

Miss Thomson gives him a long, hard look, but eventually shrugs and says, “All right. I’ll let Ross, er, Mr Baker know that you’re coming to see him after you’ve finished here.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says and puts on his best fake smile, holding his breath until he hears the front door close behind her. Then he gulps in a deep breath and turns back around towards his grandmother.

“Urgh. Thank you for getting rid of that harpy,” she mutters, eyes darting out the window to the silver BMW that is slowly pulling away from the cottage. “Been strutting around the place like she owns it for weeks now.”

“You're welcome,” Dominic says, a small, nervous smile growing on his lips. He takes another deep breath, throws a glance at Hal, who is standing stock still, giving him a somewhat helpless look that seems completely out of place on his usually so confident and self-assured face. “Now,” Dominic says, his voice only trembling very slightly as he glances towards his grandmother’s ghost – his _grandmother’s ghost –_ still standing by the stove. “We didn't get off to a very good start, did we? How about we try this again.” He pauses, smiles, then takes a small step towards her. “It's good to see you, Grandma.”

His grandmother looks unsure for a moment, and Dominic hovers awkwardly in the space between her and Hal, waiting for her reaction. Eventually, a small, brittle smile settles on her own face, even as she shakes her head in silent disbelief. “It's good to see you too, Dommy,” she says quietly. “I’ve been hoping to still be here when you come home.”

The lump in his throat is back and larger than ever, and he can feel tears pricking at the very corners of his eyes. “I didn't expect to ever see you again,” he croaks.

“Oh, now, don’t be silly,” his grandmother says, taking two large steps towards him and enveloping him in a tight hug. Dominic can feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, two of them almost simultaneously, and he takes in a ragged breath. “There’s no reason for tears, boy,” she says, rubbing his back in a way that feels so familiar, but at the same time her hands feel so much smaller than they used to. _She_ seems so much smaller than she used to, that he has to lean down towards her as she hugs him. “But… Dommy…” she says a moment later, pulling away from him and giving him an anguished look. “You're a vampire.”

“And you're a ghost,” he croaks, as a further couple of tears roll down the trails left by the first ones. 

“That I am,” she says with a nod. “It’s what happens when you die.” Then her face darkens and she adds, “When you die a normal death.”

Dominic nods, swallows. “I know.”

“What happened to you, Dommy?” she asks. Her voice is sounding strangely choked up, and there are tears in her eyes now as well, but that isn’t supposed to happen. That never happens. Grandma doesn’t cry.

“I was dying,” Dominic hears himself saying, almost as if on autopilot. There is a sudden warmth surrounding his right hand, and he looks around to see Hal, a reassuring, soothing presence next to him, giving him strength. He smiles and turns back towards his grandmother. “I was dying, and Hal…” he pauses, clears his throat, closes his eyes, and says, “Hal saved me.”


	18. Unfinished Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always :)
> 
> This is a looong chapter. I had to pack quite a lot of actual plot into this to move the story forward, so it ended up taking a fair amount longer to finalise than I originally thought. 
> 
> I hope you like the result!

Gone too fast  
Like the sun, like the morning  
Seasons change like a face getting old

\- Feeder, “Sonorous”

 

“All right, last one,” Louise says with a sigh and a small smile towards Natasha, who nods, eyes darting to the wooden door with the number six on it.

“Let’s just hope they didn’t leave too much of a mess behind,” she says as Louise pushes the door open. The young family with the infant checked out earlier this morning, and Natasha is on room duty with Louise today, so it falls to them to clean and get the room ready for the next guests. Not that there are likely going to be any next guests for a while, with the way things have been going at the hotel recently.

“Huh, that’s not too bad,” Louise says, turning around to Natasha, who takes a quick look around the room before she walks over to the cot. There is a flutter in her stomach as she lifts out the small blanket, and she holds it in her hands for a long moment, focusing inward to the tiny body growing inside of her, before she gives herself a little shake and deposits the blanket in the dirty laundry trolley.

She continues on the the main bed and starts stripping the cover off of one of the pillows when she hears a loud gasp from the other side of the room, followed by a rustling of paper. She looks up to see Louise standing by the table on the other side of the room, what looks like a newspaper clasped in her hands, her face as pale as a sheet.

“Lou? What’s up?” she asks, slowly walking towards her.

“This guy,” Louise says in a husky voice, her eyes glued on the paper in front of her.

Natasha’s gaze wanders from Louise’s face down to the newspaper in her hands, and she reads the headline upside down.

_Student, 21, brutally murdered in parents’ home_

Under the headline, there is a small, blurry picture of a young, blond man with striking blue eyes.

“Let me have a look,” she says, gesturing for Louise to hand over the paper, and Louise, as if startled out of a daze, almost drops it into her hands, still never taking her eyes of the picture.

Natasha skim-reads the rest of the article, and her stomach turns. The body of the young man was found around midday yesterday in an annexe at the back of his parents’ garden, after his mother went looking for him when he didn’t turn up for lunch. According to the article, his neck was snapped with bare hands, and there were some other ‘suspicious looking wounds’ that were not described in any further detail.

“That’s just sick,” Natasha says, scowling.

“I recognise him,” Louise says in that same husky, faraway voice as before, and Natasha’s eyes dart back up to her.

“It says he’s local,” she says reassuringly. “You’ve probably just seen him around town.”

“No.” Louise shakes her head. “I’ve seen him here,” she clarifies, and there is a haunted look in her eyes as she stares back at the picture for a moment, before she raises her eyes to meet Natasha’s. “He came to see Hal.”

There is a beat of complete silence, in which Natasha’s stomach lurches again, harder, and her heart speeds up to dizzying levels. “He what?” she asks faintly.

Louise’s forehead creases as she repeats, “He came to see Hal. At first I thought he was his boyfriend or something, he was looking at him in that way, you know? Like he was after something more than polite conversation.” She pauses, and Natasha just stares back at her for a long moment, until she becomes aware of what she is doing, averts her eyes and loudly clears her throat.

Louise jumps at the sudden noise, like she is coming out of some deep thoughts of her own. “Hal said that he wasn’t, that he’s with someone else,” she continues, and Natasha nods.

“He is.”

Louise gives her a sharp look. “You know them? His… girlfriend? Boyfriend? Whatever?”

Natasha nods and shrugs. “Yeah. He’s a… friend of mine.” A sharp ache courses through her chest at the thought, reminding her of all the reasons why that statement might not be completely true anymore.

Louise lets out an odd little huff that is half annoyed and half relieved, before her eyes drift down to the newspaper article again.

“So if that’s true,” she says, looking back up and straight into Natasha’s eyes, “Then who the hell was this guy?”

Natasha’s stomach lurches once more at her words, and an uneasy feeling settles into her chest. She glances back down at the picture in front of her, but the face looking back at her isn’t the slightest bit familiar.

“I haven’t got a clue,” she says slowly, careful not to let her unease show in her voice.

That is until Louise says, “I’m going to have to talk to Hal about this.”

Natasha looks up at her in alarm. “Lou,” she starts, but doesn’t really know how to continue. She clears her throat, says, “Don’t… get yourself involved with Hal, okay?”

Louise frowns. “What do you mean, ‘involved with Hal’? He’s told me he’s seeing someone, and I respect tha—”

“I didn’t mean ‘involved’ in that way,” Natasha cuts in quickly, giving Louise a pleading look. “I just mean, be careful around Hal, all right?”

As soon as she says it, she inwardly kicks herself for having said too much, as Louise’s frown deepens. “Tasha?” she asks suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Natasha quickly shakes her head. “Nothing, I just…” She drifts off, sighs deeply, then starts again, “There are things about Hal, about his past, that it’s probably best if you don’t go digging into. He’s… things are different now. That’s all I can tell you right now. Just… don’t go digging, okay? Please?”

“Tasha—”

“Lou,” she says firmly, giving Louise an urgent, wide-eyed look. “Please?”

Louise looks back at her for a long moment, eyes occasionally flicking back down to the newspaper in her hand, before eventually, she sighs and nods. “Okay.”

***

Dominic glances nervously at his grandmother’s ghost standing in front of him, swallowing thickly.

“What happened to you, Dommy?” she asks, with a look so full of sorrow that it makes his dead, unbeating heart ache.

“I was dying,” Dominic hears himself saying, almost as if on autopilot. There is a sudden warmth surrounding his right hand, and he looks around to see Hal, a reassuring, soothing presence next to him, giving him strength. He smiles and turns back towards his grandmother. “I was dying, and Hal…” he pauses, clears his throat, closes his eyes, and says, “Hal saved me.”

He can hear his grandmother sigh even before he opens his eyes again. “What have I told you about lying to me, Dommy?” she says.

He frowns. “I wasn’t—”

“No, to be fair, I don’t think in this case you were really lying to me,” she continues, giving him an unreadable look. “But I think you’re lying to yourself, Dominic. You don’t accept that what you just told me is the truth.”

Dominic opens his mouth to counter, but then her words fully sink in, and he sighs, shakes his head, and looks down at his feet. “How can I?” he whispers, in a voice almost too soft for her to hear.

“How can you what, Dom?” she asks back, in that tone of unshakeable patience that he remembers from when he was a boy. He lifts his eyes to give her an incredulous look.

“How can I believe that I was saved, when I’ve been turned into… this?”

His grandmother sighs. “Because the alternative would have been _this_ ,” she says, gesturing towards herself. “And trust me, my boy, you wouldn’t have wanted that, either. And as for me,” she continues, just as Dominic is opening his mouth to argue, “You are my only grandson, Dominic. You are all that is left of this family. And God help me I’d rather see you like this for eternity, than see you gone from this world forever.”

A sudden lump forms in Dominic’s throat, and he swallows hard. “I…” he starts, then drifts off, shakes his head. What is he supposed to say to that?

Another treacherous tear makes its way down his right cheek, and he hastily wipes it away with his free hand. The action, however, makes him suddenly and painfully aware that he has been standing in front of his grandmother for the last few minutes holding Hal’s hand. His immediate, knee-jerk reaction is to drop his hand away from Hal’s as if burned, and he can feel Hal’s disappointed eyes boring into the side of his head.

Dominic clears his throat, lifts his eyes back towards his grandmother, who has a knowing look in her eyes that makes him want to sink into the ground and die. Again.

“Grandma,” he croaks, “this is Hal. Please don’t throw him out of the house.”

His grandmother actually cracks a small smile at his words, but then it falls off her face as her eyes wander across to Hal, and she gives him a scrutinising look.

“You look familiar,” she says, as if trying to remember something from years past. “Hal, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hal says, and Dominic finally turns around to look at him, sees his apprehensive smile as he takes a step closer to his grandmother and once again holds out his hand. Reluctantly, she shakes it, but that scrutinising look never leaves her face.

“I’m sure I’ve seen your face before,” she says. “Have you ever had any dealings with…” She suddenly breaks off, and blanches. “It’s you,” she says a moment later, and her face darkens. “I know it, I recognise your face from the picture.”

Dominic frowns, dread settling into his stomach. “What picture, Grandma?”

She turns to him with a furrowed brow. “The painting. Surely you will have seen it, in his—”

“File,” Dominic finishes, and she nods. “How do you know the picture, Grandma? I didn’t know you ever worked for the department?”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “What, your father never told you? That was how I met your grandfather. I worked as an archivist, and he… well, he was doing your job, essentially.”

Dominic shakes his head. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, anyway,” she continues quickly. “After your grandfather… after he was…” She pauses when she starts to sound choked up again, and she quickly clears her throat and continues, “Despite what everyone told me, I insisted on being involved in the investigation, and I remember very clearly when we finally found the one that did it.”

Dominic’s throat closes up, and his eyes are threatening to bulge out of their sockets. _It can’t be… please don’t let it be… no…_

“It wasn’t…” he says faintly, and to his immense relief, his grandmother immediately shakes her head.

“Oh heavens, no,” she says firmly. “If it was, believe me that he wouldn’t still be standing there.” He follows her gaze to Hal, who is watching their exchange with anxious eyes. “No,” she continues, “but he did know him. Killed my Alfie as some kind of sick… tribute to him, apparently. Because he felt like he was being left behind, after _Lord Harry_ had got himself a new recruit.” Out of the corner of his eye, Dominic can see Hal flinch at the mention of the name, and he quickly looks up at him, gives him a fleeting smile. “We almost caught him,” his grandmother continues, but Dominic keeps his eyes locked on Hal now, watching the dread and horror and regret at what he is hearing reflect in his hazel eyes. “Smug bastard he was. Told us all of this like it was all a big joke to him.” She pauses, lets out a deep sigh. “He got away, and we never saw him again. For all I know, he’s still out there somewhere.”

“He isn’t,” Hal speaks up then, and Dominic’s eyes widen.

His grandmother gasps. “You know what happened to him? Last thing I knew, you… disappeared, broke ties with all of them.”

Hal nods. “That I did, ma’am. I… ran away with a werewolf friend of mine, who kept me on the wagon for over fifty-five years.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Now, that’s impressive. And it explains an awful lot, too,” she adds, with a sidelong glance at Dominic. “But anyway, lets not get off topic. You… said you know what happened to him?”

“I do, ma’am,” Hal says, and follows it with the last words Dominic expects him to say. “I killed him.”

“Your own recruit?” his grandmother scoffs. “And you expect me to believe that?”

“He was threatening my friends,” is all that Hal says, in a voice that is suddenly surprisingly small and vulnerable.

Dominic looks up to see his grandmother staring at Hal with an unreadable expression on her face, and no one says anything for a long time.

It is his grandmother who breaks the silence eventually. She turns around to face Dominic with a knowing look in her eyes and a small, bittersweet smile on her face. “It was him, wasn't it?” she asks. “The one you talked about at the hospital?”

Dominic feels his eyes widening and heat rising into his cheeks, but he nods all the same. “Yes, Grandma.”

He glances nervously in her direction, trying to gauge her reaction before the inevitable impact, and is surprised and slightly bewildered when he sees her smiling at him. “Mmmh, I can see that. The way you look at him.”

“Grandma,” he chokes out pitifully, his cheeks burning with an intensity he hasn’t felt since the day he died.

“Oh, no, don’t you ‘Grandma’ me, young man,” she says, and Dominic thinks he can hear Hal chuckling quietly next to him. He turns towards him with a glare, and earns himself a perfectly innocent look and a shrug in return. “That right there,” his grandmother comments, and Dominic whirls back around to her, sees her giving him a knowing smile. “I know true love when I see it, Dominic, and it's right there in your eyes when you look at him.”

“Grandma, listen—” Dominic starts, ready to defend his life choices to her, but doesn’t even get to finish as she carries on as if she didn’t hear him.

“But Dommy,” she says, her brow furrowing, “why didn't you say?”

 _Say what?_ he asks himself immediately. _That he is a vampire? Or that he is a man?_

“I… didn't think you'd approve,” he croaks out, thinking that it encompasses both eventualities.

His grandmother, however, doesn’t appear to agree, as she gives him a stern look. “I may be an old woman, but that doesn't automatically make me a bigot, Dominic Rook.”

Dominic swallows. “No, I… realise that,” he says quietly, looking down at his feet again. “I just… I thought…”

“You thought I would share your father’s views, is what you're trying to say.”

Dominic sighs and looks back up at her. “Yes.”

His grandmother heaves a deep sigh and shakes her head. “You do realise that parents and their children can disagree about some things,” she points out, and he nods emphatically.

“Yes, of course I do,” he agrees. “But I… didn't think it was a good time to put it to the test.”

“Oh you silly boy,” she says, with another head shake. “You honestly thought I’d’ve thought any less of you for telling me about your boyfriend rather than your girlfriend? Truth be told, Dommy, I’ve had my suspicions about you, anyway.”

Dominic’s stomach somersaults. “You… have?”

“Oh yes, for a long time,” she confirms, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “I didn’t really ever find a chance to talk to you about it, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t suspect it.”

“Huh, well,” Dominic says with a faint smile, “I guess that makes one of us.”

His grandmother gives him a piercing look, but thankfully refrains from commenting further, and Dominic heaves a silent sigh of relief.

That is until his grandmother’s eyes dart across towards Hal again, and he follows her gaze to see Hal trying to look casual, but he can clearly see the apprehension that lies under the surface.

“Now, Hal,” his grandmother says, her voice hard and completely devoid of the warmth it carried only a few short moments before, “let me be completely frank with you. As you can imagine after what I just told you, I have no love lost for vampires. Especially Old Ones. _Especially_ ones that turn my only grandson into a vampire himself.”

Hal clears his throat. “I—”

“And yet,” his grandmother continues, “Dominic seems to think the world of you, and like it or not, I trust my boy’s judgement, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hal says, inclining his head at his grandmother, and Dominic can’t help the small smile that spreads on his lips at seeing Hal looking so… meek.

The next moment, however, the smile is wiped off his face as his grandmother continues in an ice-cold voice, “But I find out that you hurt a single hair on my Dominic’s head, and I will come after you and haunt you to kingdom come, you hear me?”

Hal blinks and gives her a jerky nod. “Loud and clear, ma’am.”

“Good, good,” his grandmother says, nodding to herself. Silence falls, and Dominic tries his hardest to process what just happened.

He glances up at Hal, who meets his eyes with a look that says, _You didn’t prepare me for this._

 _I’m sorry,_ he tries to convey back, _I didn’t exactly expect this to happen._

Both of them are startled out of their silent conversation by Dominic’s grandmother loudly clearing her throat. “Now,” she says, a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes as she looks back and forth between them. “Anyone for a cuppa?”

Dominic, for the second time in less than half an hour, feels the tension of the situation getting the better of him, and this time he is unable to hold back the high-pitched, borderline hysterical laugh that bursts out of him. Hal chuckles quietly next to him, and Dominic can feel the tip of his index finger lightly brushing against the back of his hand. He looks up at Hal with a soft smile, then turns back towards his grandmother, who looks at him expectantly. His instinct tells him to decline, and he is just about to tell her so when Hal beats him to it and says, “I’d love one, thank you, ma’am.”

His grandmother lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Hal, enough of this ‘ma’am’ nonsense,” she says, rolling her eyes at Hal. “Call me Grandma Geri, would you?”

Another laugh escapes Dominic, and he desperately tries to tell himself to shut up and have some dignity, but his brain seems to have decided that his dignity died with him on that kitchen floor, because he just can’t stop laughing.

Hal doesn’t help matters when he lifts his eyebrows, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and says, “You do realise that I’m about six times your age, don’t you?”

His grandmother narrows her eyes at him. “You would do better not to remind me of that if you want to stay in my good books, boy,” she says gravely. “And anyway, look at you. You’re practically a spring chicken.”

Dominic has fresh tears in his eyes from laughing at this point, and Hal joins in for a moment, letting out a breathy chuckle before he replies, “Looks can be deceiving, ma’am.”

“They can indeed,” his grandmother shoots back. “I’m a lot fiercer than my five foot two and my eighty-nine years would lead you to believe.”

“I have no doubts about that,” Hal says with a nod and a small smile.

His grandmother gives Hal another unreadable look, deep in thought for a moment, then nods faintly to herself and says, “Anyway, why don’t you boys go and have a look at the rest of the house, while I prepare you some tea. Don’t have much in the house in terms of cake, I’m afraid, but I think there might still be some biscuits in the tin.”

“Thanks, Grandma, that would be lovely,” Dominic says, the first proper words coming out of his mouth for several minutes. Then he turns around to Hal and reaches out to once again take his hand in his own. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

***

Dominic slowly makes his way up the stairs, taking in the familiar frames on the wall lining the staircase, of pressed flowers and butterflies his grandmother used to gather outside. There is a familiar smell hanging in the air that he hasn’t smelled for so many years, and it is different now, amplified by his new, sharper senses, but he still recognises it all the same. One of his hands trails behind him where it is still firmly clasping Hal’s, and he turns around and gives him a bright smile.

“Nice place you’ve got here, _Dommy_ ” Hal says with a grin, and Dominic’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t you start,” he says warningly, but it only makes Hal’s grin widen.

“Start what?” he asks.

Dominic rolls his eyes. “You know exactly what,” he says seriously. “You don’t get to call me that. No one does, other than her.” He nods his head down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen.

Hal lets out a mock-disappointed sigh, but nods and says, “Fair enough.” Then his face sobers up, and he adds, “It _is_ a nice place though. I can imagine you would’ve been very happy here.”

Dominic sighs. “I think I was,” he says, and his smile turns melancholic, until Hal says something entirely unexpected.

“Perhaps you could be again.”

Dominic feels a frown settle on his face, and he stops as he gets to the top of the staircase, turning around to Hal, giving him a quizzical look.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks.

Hal shrugs. “Nothing in particular,” he says nonchalantly. “Just thinking out loud.”

Dominic narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but when Hal doesn’t say anything more, he decides to drop it, and leads Hal along the upstairs hallway, pushing open the first door to their left.

“This is… was… my grandmother’s bedroom,” he says, coming to a halt just inside the doorway. Hal comes to stand next to him and extracts his hand from his, only to snake an arm around his waist and pull him close.

“That’s a nice bed,” Hal says, indicating the king-size bed in the middle of the room.

Dominic turns around to him with a slightly bemused smile. “You think so?” he asks, looking back at the bed in question, an old-fashioned, dark wooden frame with a deep red duvet cover thrown across it, and his breath catches in his throat when Hal leans in close to him, so close that he can feel his breath ghosting over _that_ spot on his neck, before it travels further upwards.

“I want to have sex with you on that bed,” Hal all but purrs into his ear, and Dominic feels a new influx of heat rising into his cheeks as he whirls around to Hal with a scandalous expression on his face.

“Hal, that's my grandparents’ bed.”

“So? There is undeniable evidence standing right in front of me that your grandparents did the very same thing in that bed as well,” Hal says with a smirk, looking Dominic up and down.

“Hal!” he scolds with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“What?” Hal asks mock-innocently.

Dominic swallows thickly. “That’s… not something I want to think about right now. Or ever, truth be told.”

Hal chuckles and reaches out a hand, gentle fingers brushing down the centre of his chest, and Dominic's breath briefly catches at the touch, before he lets out an indignant huff.

“No, Hal,” he says firmly, trying his best to ignore the feeling of Hal’s fingertips caressing him through the fabric of his shirt. “My grandmother could walk in any moment,” he points out. “Or… rent-a-ghost in, thinking about it, which would be even worse.”

Hal shakes his head. “She's downstairs making tea, isn't she?” he says. “I can be very quick. And quiet.”

“I'm sure,” Dominic says, his voice husky as he can feel his resolve slipping. “But it's still a ‘no’, Hal,” he bites out before he gives himself a chance to change his mind.

“But why not?” Hal asks, and God help him, now he is bringing out the puppy dog eyes.

 _You have to give it to him,_ Dominic thinks, _Hal truly is a master of seduction._

But as soon as he thinks it, the thought leaves a slightly bitter taste in his mouth, and he shakes his head, clears his mind, and croaks out a pitiful, “Hal, please.”

The corners of Hal’s mouth lift in a smile. “Now that sounded almost like encouragement to me.”

“No,” Dominic replies firmly, shaking his head harder.

Hal sighs, looks down for a moment, and this is where Dominic makes the mistake of letting his guard down. Because the next moment, the puppy dog eyes are back, more irresistible than ever with those countless unnamable colours that Dominic never used to be able to see, a picture of perfect innocence. And he looks straight at Dominic and says, “I could suck you off in less time than it takes your grandmother to finish making the tea.”

A violent flutter spreads in Dominic's stomach. “Is that a fact?” he croaks out.

Hal moves in closer then, the whole palm of his hand lying flat against Dominic’s chest for a moment before it starts its slow journey down.

“I can show you, if you want.” Hal says quietly. “But we need to get a move on. Time is running out.” He gives Dominic a predatory smile. “What do you think?”

And Dominic finds his throat closing up at that look, at those words, and all he can do is silently nod before Hal’s hands are on his chest again, both of them now, pushing him backwards. His legs make contact with the bed frame, and he carefully climbs onto the mattress. He props himself up on his elbows and watches as Hal straddles his legs, hands fumbling to undo his trousers, push down his underwear, and before he can even properly get his bearings, Hal’s tongue makes contact with the very tip of his cock, briefly dipping into the slit before swirling around the head, and then Hal’s lips are there, too, closing around him, taking him in.

Dominic feels a deep moan bubble up from the bottom of his chest, and he knows better than to allow it to escape, so in his panic he lifts his left arm up to his mouth and bites down hard, the sound of the moan swallowed by the skin pressed against his lips and the sweet blood flowing into his mouth.

He feels Hal stop and lift his head, and he lets the arm fall away from his mouth to better be able to see him. “What?” he asks with a furrowed brow as Hal just continues to stare at him.

“Nothing, just…” Hal's eyes flicks down to Dominic’s mouth, and almost on cue, his tongue flicks out, licking off the blood.

“In that case,” Dominic says, slightly breathlessly, “can we perhaps get a move on? I really don't want her to walk in on…”

The rest of the sentence dissolves in another moan as Hal’s mouth finds its way back to his cock, and Dominic quickly brings his arm back up to stifle the sound. And to get a bit more of that addictive taste that is so quickly fading from his mouth.

Dominic's senses are driven into overdrive by Hal’s mouth on him and the taste of blood on his tongue, and he feels himself speeding towards orgasm at a dizzying pace.

He once again drops his arm away from his mouth, licks the blood off his lips, takes a ragged breath and gasps, “Hal.”

“Mmmh?” Hal hums with his mouth stretched around Dominic's erection, and oh, the vibration, it’s…

“Hal, I…” he manages to get out, eyes wandering down to where Hal is leaning over him, and their eyes meet, and Hal _winks_ at him.

And that is all it takes for Dominic to fall apart, no further warning given as he shoots spurts of come straight into Hal’s mouth, and there are stars dancing in front of his eyes as his head falls back onto the pillow.

Hal stays put until he is sure he has finished, then, with one last teasing lick along his now over-sensitised flesh that sends a powerful shiver down Dominic's spine, he pulls off, licks a stray drop of come off his own lips, tucks Dominic's softening cock away in his underwear and does up his trousers and belt. Then he sits back on his heels, a triumphant smile on his face.

“So,” he says nonchalantly. “Fancy a cup of tea?”

Dominic lets out a disbelieving huff that turns into a breathless chuckle. “Shit, Hal,” he whispers, shaking his head.

“What?” Hal asks again in that infuriatingly innocent tone.

Dominic lifts up his head to better be able to look at him. “You’re—”

“Boys? Are you coming down? The tea is ready,” his grandmother’s voice drifts up the stairs, and Dominic dissolves in yet another fit of giggles.

Hal, it seems, also can't keep up his straight face anymore, as a moment later he joins in his laughter.

“Is everything all right up there?” his grandmother asks.

Dominic opens his mouth to answer, but finds that only more laughter is coming out, and he looks helplessly to Hal.

“Don't worry, Mrs Rook, everything's just fine,” Hal calls. “We’ll be down in a second.”

“I told you to call me Grandma Geri,” his grandmother calls, and Dominic feels a completely new wave of giggles coming on.

Hal narrows his eyes at him as he calls a quick “Sorry” down the stairs, before he turns back around to Dominic with a small, good-natured eye roll. “She’s tenacious, isn’t she.”

Dominic nods, still slightly breathless when he says, “It runs in the family.”

Hal chuckles and lifts his eyebrows at him. “You’re not wrong there.” Then he crawls up Dominic’s body on his hands and knees and leans down to place a quick, almost innocent peck on Dominic’s lips. “Now,” he says as he pulls away. “We better not leave Grandma Geri waiting.”

***

Dominic walks back into the kitchen closely followed by Hal. His eyes dart across the room to his grandmother sitting at the large rustic wooden table, an actual ceramic teapot sitting on a matching teapot warmer in the middle of it, with three cups set out for them and a side plate filled with an assortment of biscuits.

At hearing them enter, his grandmother looks up, a knowing glint in her eyes as they flick back and forth between him and Hal for a moment. Dominic feels his cheeks burning once again, and he loudly clears his throat.

“That looks lovely, Grandma,” he says with a smile, acting as nonchalantly as possible as he takes a seat at the table across from her. Hal sits down next to him, once again politely inclining his head towards his grandmother, who gives him a cryptic smile before she turns back towards Dominic.

“Anything for my boy finally coming home,” she says, in a much more serious tone than her previous look would have suggested, and Dominic feels a lump forming in his throat.

“I… haven’t come to stay, Grandma,” he points out, while she busies herself with pouring tea for them all.

She puts the pot back down and gives him a small smile. “I realise that, Dom. I didn’t expect you to stay. But I’m glad you finally got those… idiot lawyers out of here, and I’m… relieved that you actually accepted your inheritance.”

Dominic freezes with his teacup halfway to his mouth, giving her a sharp look. “Why would I not have accepted it?” he asks.

Her eyes flick down to the tabletop for a moment, before she looks back up at him. “To be honest, Dommy, it didn’t feel like you still had much of a… connection with this place, after… well, after you moved away. I wasn’t sure you’d want to come back to it.”

“I’m sorry, Grandma,” Dominic says promptly, putting his cup back down on the saucer. “I should’ve stayed in touch more, I—”

“You had your own life going on,” his grandmother says. “I understand that, Dom.”

Dominic shakes his head. “No. I… after Father died, I just… I got completely invested in my work, and I… didn’t really feel I had time for anything else.” He gives her a wistful smile, which she returns with a similar one.

“I’m just glad you came,” she says quietly. Then her eyes flick down to the so far untouched cup of tea sitting in front of him, and a somewhat uncomfortable look passes across her face. “You… don’t actually have to drink it, if you don’t want to,” she says. “I’m afraid I’m not too familiar with vampire customs and so forth—”

“No, no,” Dominic rushes out, shaking his head, before he lifts the cup to his lips and takes a careful sip. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Hal do the same. He puts the cup back down and meets his grandmother’s eyes. “We do. Eat and drink, I mean. And this… this an excellent cup of tea,” he says, earning himself a glowing smile from her.

“Oh, thank you, boy. I do think I can brew a decent cuppa still. Don’t get to try it anymore, myself, obviously,” she says, throwing a longing look at her own cup that he recognises so well from watching Alex. “I’m glad you can still enjoy it.”

“It really is a very good cup of tea, ma’am,” Hal says before he can stop himself, and Dominic smiles as his grandmother glares at him across the table. “I’ll get you out of that habit yet, young man,” she grumbles, and Hal laughs. Then she gives Hal a thoughtful look and asks, “How old exactly are you, Hal?”

Hal averts his eyes for a moment, before looking back up at her with a furrowed brow. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to mention it?”

“You’re allowed to mention it when I _ask_ you,” she points out to him.

Hal smiles. “Five hundred and twenty-three, according to your records,” he says quietly, and Dominic watches as his grandmother’s eyes widen.

“Good heavens!” she exclaims. “You really are almost six times my age.”

“That’s what I said, m—” Hal starts, then catches himself and adds, “Grandma Geri.”

“That’s my boy,” she says, a smile flitting across her face before her expression grows thoughtful again. “How old were you when you… were recruited?” she asks, saying the last two words very slowly and carefully, as if they wouldn’t have been her first choice. Dominic swallows when he thinks of what _his_ first choice would have been.

“Twenty-four,” Hal says, and Dominic’s eyes dart up when he hears his grandmother huff loudly.

“See. I knew it. A spring chicken.”

Hal chuckles, and Dominic finds himself smiling as he looks back and forth between the two.

“How did you two meet, anyway?” his grandmother asks then, eyes fixed back on him again.

“Er…” Dominic starts, thinking back to the time, almost a year ago, when he first heard about an Old One by the name of Hal Yorke from a little brat of a vampire winding him up with talk of crayons and cigarettes. “Work,” he manages to choke out eventually.

His grandmother nods. “I should’ve guessed,” she says, then turns back towards Hal. “Well, Hal,” she continues, “You better treat my Dominic right, understood?”

“Of course, m— Grandma Geri,” Hal says, swallowing. “I would never do anything to hurt him.”

His grandmother gives Hal a scrutinising look. “I remember looking at your file, Hal. I know what you are capable of.”

“I’m not… that man anymore, ma’am,” Hal replies, giving her an imploring look. “I’ve changed since that time.”

“You better be right about that,” his grandmother says with a sigh, before she turns back to Dominic with a small smile. “While I have to admit that I don’t entirely understand your choice, I am glad that you found someone to share you life with, Dom,” she says, and Dominic can feel his throat closing up. “I always wanted to meet the person you would eventually open your heart to, and I’m so glad I got the chance—”

She breaks off and her eyes grow wide as they fall on a spot on the wall behind Dominic, her face is suddenly illuminated by a bright white glow. Dominic feels his chest tightening even before he turns around, his suspicion confirmed a moment later when he sees the simple wooden door that just materialised next to the fridge. An almost blinding glow of light is escaping around the edges of the door, and he can almost physically feel the pull of it, the way it beckons to be opened.

“I suppose that’s my cue to make my exit,” his grandmother says quietly, and Dominic whirls back around to her, staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“No,” he croaks out, his eyes once again filling up with tears. “No, Grandma, we only just started talking, there is so much I still want to tell you…”

“And you will,” she says with a smile. “One day, a long, long time from now,” her eyes quickly dart towards Hal before landing back on him, “we will see each other again, Dommy. But for now… it has to be goodbye.”

Dominic feels his head shaking of its own accord. “No,” he says again, his voice breaking. “Grandma, no, can’t you stay—”

“No,” Hal cuts in, and he turns around to him, a frown growing on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Hal says again, his voice perfectly serious, his eyes settling on his grandmother. “You should get your Door,” he continues. “Things… can get messy if you turn it down.”

Dominic still feels his head shaking as if on autopilot. What is Hal saying? Why is he saying this? Alex is still around, isn’t she? And his previous friend, Pearl, stayed for almost sixty years….

“I know,” his grandmother says, nodding at Hal before turning back towards Dominic. “It’s all right, Dommy,” she says, getting up and walking around the table towards him. He gets to his feet as well, and as soon as he does, he finds himself enveloped in another tight hug. “Take care of yourself, boy.”

“I will, Grandma,” he says, placing a kiss on the top of her head, and she slowly lets go of him and gives him a bright smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Dommy,” she says, gaze flicking towards Hal for a split second, and Dominic can’t help but smile back at her.

“Thanks, Grandma. That… means a lot.”

His grandmother nods at him with another smile, then turns towards the Door.

“Well, never let it be said that Geraldine Rook has been afraid of anything,” she says quietly, and then, in a voice that is almost a whisper, adds, “At least I will see my Alfie again.”

“Say hello to Grandad for me,” Dominic says, in the exact moment as a tear escapes from his eyes and rolls down his cheek.

“Of course, boy,” she says, and pushes open the Door. The glow of light from beyond is so bright that it temporarily blinds his sensitive eyes, and he doesn’t have a choice but to close them.

When he opens them again only seconds later, he looks upon a plain bit of wall, and a sharp pain courses through his chest, rendering him unable to breathe for a long moment. Then Hal’s warmth materialises behind him, two strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him close, and soft lips press a gentle kiss into his hair.

“It’s okay,” Hal breathes. “She’s in a better place now.”

Dominic lets out a shaky breath, then slowly shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, memories of the chaos that was purgatory flooding his mind. “But she will be.”

“Yes,” Hal agrees, and he can feel him nodding against the back of his head.

Dominic takes a deep breath, turns around in Hal’s embrace, and looks deep into his eyes. “Now,” he says, and, unbidden, another tear escapes his left eye. “If you don’t mind… can we please go home?”

***

It is almost an hour and a half later when the baby blue Mercedes finally makes its way back down the coastal road towards Menai Bridge, after Hal reminded Dominic that they still had to meet with the solicitors again to sign the paperwork.

Dominic barely remembers any of the particulars of that visit, the shock of his grandmother’s sudden departure and the top-up of blood he received from Hal shortly after keeping him in a state of numb apathy, to the point where, according to Hal, he didn’t even make eyes at the receptionist, who, apparently, looked positively heartbroken at his sudden disinterest.

Dominic vaguely remembers signing his name on some important looking paperwork, and a middle-aged man in a dark grey suit, and thinking that he looked better in blue, wherever that thought had come from, but apart from that, his mind is blissfully empty as he looks out the window at the passing trees, giving occasional glimpses of the calm water beyond.

They make it across the old suspension bridge, past Bangor and onto the road that he knows will take them through Snowdonia National Park and back towards Barry. His eyes slip closed before they reach the point of his accident, and he only opens them again when the sun is already standing low in the sky, a huge red orb painting the sky around it various shades of orange, pink and purple.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Hal asks, glancing over at him.

Dominic shrugs. “I’ve been better,” he says, and Hal nods, turning back towards the road again.

Silence falls for a long moment, until it is suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted by Dominic’s phone ringingly loudly, and he gasps.

Hal quickly looks over at him with a small frown. “You think the solicitor forgot something?” he asks.

Dominic shrugs again, pulling the phone out of his pocket and glancing at the screen. His eyes widen when he sees the caller ID.

Clearing his throat, he lifts the phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”

“Sir, thank God,” Adrian’s voice sounds through the receiver. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you since yesterday, but your phone’s just been going to voicemail. Even called your home number as well, but only got through to your… girlfriend?… telling me that you’re out at the moment but you’d give me a ring back as soon as you get the message. That was _yesterday_ , sir!”

“I’m sorry, Adrian, I… didn’t have any signal,” Dominic says truthfully. Then a frown settles on his face, and he asks, “What has been so important that you had to get hold of me so urgently, anyway?”

“Well, sir,” Adrian says, then pauses. “Are you free to talk?” he asks carefully.

Dominic quickly glances towards Hal, who is focusing on the road in front of him. He nods and says, “Yes, I am.”

“Well, because…” Adrian starts, then drifts off again. “Well, you see, sir, the thing is…”

“Just spit it out, already, Adrian,” Dominic snaps, his patience wearing thin.

He can hear Adrian taking a deep breath on the other end. “We… could really do with your expertise on a case, sir,” he says finally.

Dominic’s frown deepens. “What kind of case?” he asks slowly.

Adrian takes another deep breath. “A body of a woman was washed up on the shore of Loch Linnhe three days ago,” he rushes out. “The body was badly damaged by having been in the water for some time, but there were unmistakable marks… it looks like a Type 2 attack, sir.”

“So?” Dominic asks, puzzled, even as an unexplainable lump rises into this throat. “It’s a Type 2 attack. What do you need me for?”

“Well, you see, sir,” Adrian says, sounding nervous again. “All investigations we have completed so far, of tracing back the woman’s whereabouts before her disappearance, have lead us to the same conclusion.”

Dominic lets out a frustrated huff. “And what conclusion is that, Adrian?”

Adrian is silent for a long moment, then sighs heavily and says, “All the evidence seems to suggest that the perpetrator is no other than SJ031, sir.”

Dominic almost drops the phone into his lap, all rational thought leaving him for a moment as all he can hear on endless repeat in his mind is _SJ031_.

“That’s impossible, Adrian,” he hears himself croak out past the tightness in his throat that prevents him from breathing.

“I’m sorry, sir. I know you have assured us that he has been rehabilitated. But that is exactly why we need you to come in and shed some light on the situation.”

“I understand,” he says quietly, almost robotically.

Adrian, however, breathes a sigh of relief. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

“Yes, Adrian,” Dominic continues in that same emotionless voice. “I am indeed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adrian says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I will let the rest of the team know to expect you.”

Dominic nods wordlessly and lets the phone drop into his lap, thumb reaching out to press the disconnect button, and he stares unseeingly through the windscreen in front of him. After a moment, he can feel Hal’s quizzical gaze on him.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” Dominic says flatly. “Everything’s fine.” Then he allows his eyes to stray over to Hal, to take in the concerned hazel eyes boring into his own, and he musters a small, strained smile. “It looks like I’m going to go back to work again.” 


	19. Into the Lion's Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!

Welcome home  
How long's it been?  
A wilderness is in me  
A wilderness is in me

\- Editors, “Belong”

 

“You do realise you’re still a vampire, right?” 

Dominic feels three expectant pairs of eyes boring into him as he sits and stares at a point on the surface of the coffee table on front of him. He swallows and lifts his eyes to take in each of them in turn, before he lowers them again, this time to his hands resting in his lap. 

He lets out a quiet huff and says, “Of course I do, Alex. How could I ever forget that.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Alex scoffs. “I thought you just said you’re planning to enter a super secure and protected underground bunker full of _trained fucking vampire hunters_ and spend the majority of your day with them without letting them know what you are. But maybe I mistook your meaning.”

Dominic frowns, eyes darting up towards Alex. “We’re not _vampire hunters_.”

“Do you really want to argue about semantics with me right now?” Alex snaps.

Dominic sighs deeply. “Whatever you say, Alex, fact is I don’t really have a choice but to go back.”

“Alex does have a point, though,” Hal pipes up next to him, and Dominic’s head whips around to face him. “And we’re not even just talking about a vampire, but a _baby_ vampire.”

“Excuse me?” Dominic splutters, narrowing his eyes at Hal, who gives him a perfectly innocent look and a shrug in return.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says. “You’ve been a vampire for… what? A month?”

“And I’ve proven that I can be trusted around humans, as long as I take… certain… precautions,” Dominic says hesitantly, looking down at his hands again, even as he feels Tom’s sharp gaze landing on him.

“I think bein’ made into a vampire has turned yer brains to mush, mate,” he says sourly.

Dominic doesn’t look back up, doesn’t want to see the hostility in the werewolf’s eyes. They had been so close to becoming actual friends, and now… 

“Give it a break, Tom, will you?” Alex speaks up, and Dominic’s eyes dart over to her before he can stop himself. She is giving Tom a long-suffering look. “They have both apologised for lying to you, haven’t they?”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t done with an apology,” Tom says, scowling. “But never mind that now, that ain’t what this is about, innit? I just… I don’t think that ya goin’ back to work this early is gonna do any of us any favours, is all. Least of all Hal.”

Dominic gives him a sharp look. “What about Hal?” he asks, a little too quickly, and he can feel Hal’s quizzical eyes landing on him.

Tom frowns. “Well, if they find out ‘bout ya, they’re probably gonna find out that it was Hal that turned ya, and they might, I dunno, jump to conclusions, like.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Dominic says, shaking his head. “I’d tell them what the situation is, and—”

“And they’d probably listen to ya a whole lot less than they do know, once they know what ya are,” Tom points out, giving him a significant look. 

Dominic meets his eyes, a frown growing on his face when he says, “But I’m still me.”

Tom huffs. “Yeah, I know that, and you know that, and they know that,” he says, pointing his chin at Hal and Alex in turn before looking back at Dominic. “But would _you_ of believed that, say, a year ago?”

Dominic feels a sharp pain in his chest when he realises the truth of what the young werewolf is telling him, and he quietly shakes his head, looking back down at his hands. “I haven’t got a choice,” he all but whispers. “I’ll just have to do my best to make sure they don’t find out.”

“What I still don’t understand,” Hal speaks up, “is what could possibly be so important to you to bring on this sudden change of heart. Something ‘highly confidential’ no doubt, seeing as you won’t even share it with us.”

Dominic swallows, but doesn’t meet Hal’s expectant gaze. “I’m sorry, Hal,” he says slowly, choosing his words very carefully and keeping his eyes trained on his firmly clasped hands. “Given the nature of my work, I don’t think it would be entirely appropriate to share that kind of information with my three supernatural housemates.”

“Huh, well, thanks for the vote of confidence, pal,” Alex mutters, and Dominic looks up to give her an imploring look. 

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he says quickly. “But this is a… delicate… matter… that needs very careful handling, and…” he trails off, takes a deep breath. “The truth is… I need to keep my work and my personal life separate,” he says, eyes drifting from Alex towards Hal and giving him a meaningful look. “It’s the only way I will be able to handle this.”

Hal gives him a long, thoughtful look, before he finally nods and says, “I understand.”

“You do?” Dominic asks, and Hal nods again.

“Yes, I do. I just… worry about you. Alex was right, and so was Tom. If they find out what you are...”

“As I said,” Dominic jumps in with a smile that radiates a lot more confidence than he feels, “I’ll just have to make sure they don’t find out.”

“Just like that,” says Hal, forehead creasing in concern.

Dominic nods. “Just like that.”

There is a moment of complete silence following his words, until it is unceremoniously broken by Tom’s stomach growling loudly. Dominic’s head whips around to the werewolf.

“Anyone else hungry?” Tom asks sheepishly. “‘Cause I’m starvin’. That is if the house meetin’s over an’ that.”

“It’s coming up to a full moon,” Hal stage-whispers into his ear, and Dominic can’t help the small laugh that bursts out of him, despite the dark look Tom is throwing them across the coffee table.

“Guys,” Alex says, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Sorry, Tom,” Dominic says quickly, throwing him a small, apologetic smile.

“Yeah, whatever,” Tom replies with a shrug. “So, ya hungry? It’s, like, way past dinner time already.”

“Is it?” Alex pipes up, looking startled as three pairs of eyes suddenly land on her.

“Yeah,” says Tom, and Alex’s eyes dart to the clock on the wall and widen in surprise.

“Christ, I need to go,” she rushes out, jumping up from the sofa.

“Go?” Hal asks with a frown, and Alex nods distractedly, straightening out her clothes. “Go where, Alex? I thought you’d finally stopped going to see your family all the time.”

“I have,” she says, finally looking up at them, and Dominic’s lips curl into a small smile when he notices the faintest of blushes colouring her cheeks. “I’m meeting with someone.”

“Someone?” Dominic asks, his curiosity piqued. “Another ghost?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she says, almost defiantly, and he chuckles. 

“You’re going on a date?” Hal asks disbelievingly, at the same time as Tom splutters, “Ya never told me nowt ‘bout that,” and Dominic’s chuckle turns into full blown laughter.

Alex looks over at Hal first, shakes her head and says, “Nah, we’re just mates.” Then she turns towards Tom and adds, “And maybe I would’ve told you if you hadn’t been too busy these last couple of days switching back and forth between getting in a strop about Hal and Dominic and being totally ecstatic about becoming a dad.”

“I… sorry, Alex,” Tom says, eyebrows drawn together.

Alex quickly shakes her head. “No, don’t be silly.”

“How long have you known this ghost, then?” Hal jumps in, a pensive look in his eyes, and Dominic can’t help the thought that pops into his head.

He leans in and, as quietly as he possibly can, whispers into Hal’s ear, “Jealous?” 

Hal whirls around to him, even as Alex says, “We’ve only met once so far.”

“Why would I be jealous?” Hal whispers back with a soft smile, before he leans in to press a quick kiss to Dominic’s lips. Then he turns back towards Alex, a serious expression on his face as he says, “Just be careful, please. Some ghosts can get… a little bit strange with time.”

“Er, yeah, I’ve met Mary,” Alex points out. Dominic has half a mind to ask who on Earth Mary is, but decides that it’s really not all that important right now. “Well, as nice as it is chatting to you,” Alex continues, straightening her dress once more, “I really need to go. Enjoy dinner.” 

And with a whoosh of air, she is gone.

***

_3:52 AM_

Dominic watches the red display of the alarm clock on the bedside table next to him, the minutes ticking by torturously slowly. His eyelids are almost too heavy to stay open, but he knows that if he were to shut them, the passage of time would slow even further, and sleep is not going to come back to him now.

In the stillness of the night, with nothing but the slowly changing numbers on the alarm clock to distract him, one sentence repeats itself over and over and over in his mind.

_“All the evidence seems to suggest that the perpetrator is no other than SJ031, sir.”_

Whatever it is the department holds as so-called ‘evidence’ against Hal, he will have to go in and thoroughly and irrefutably disprove it. Because Hal has been here. He has been with him. He has not been off killing random women in the Scottish Highlands. The very thought of it is completely ludicrous.

Dominic sighs deeply and brings up a hand to rub his tired, bloodshot eyes, and starts slightly when he feels an arm snaking around his waist, a hand pressing flat against his stomach and pulling him backwards. He lets out another, gentler sigh, settles back against the muscular chest behind him, and finally allows his eyes to flutter closed. A naked calf curls around his right leg, heel gently brushing up and down his shin, and a soft pair of lips press into the nape of his neck.

“‘S too early to be up,” Hal mumbles sleepily, tickling the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Dominic hums quietly. “I know.”

“Nervous about today?” Hal asks, and Dominic feels a lead weight dropping into the pit of his stomach. 

_Yes, I am,_ he wants to say, _but not for the reasons you might think_. But he knows he can't actually say those words, can't risk Hal or any of the others getting involved in this before he at least has a clear idea of what is going on.

“Yes,” he just says, nodding against the pillow. 

Hal presses another soft kiss against Dominic’s neck that sends a small shiver down his spine. “Don't be. You’re going to be fine, I'm sure. They have no reason to suspect anything.”

Dominic sighs. “I know. To be honest, I'm more worried about me than them.”

Hal's hand lightly strokes up and down his t-shirt-clad stomach. “So you are getting cold feet after all.”

“Of course I am,” Dominic says, even as Hal's fingers hitch up the hem of his t-shirt and brush against the newly exposed skin of his stomach. Dominic swallows thickly, trying to suppress a shiver. “Did you expect anything else?”

“Not really, no,” Hal says, nuzzling into the hair at the back of his head. “But I also know that you’re not going to change your mind about going back, so… I suppose the best thing for me to do right now is to try and distract you.”

Dominic smiles. “Oh, so that’s what you’re doing.”

Hal’s hand travels up his naked stomach, then his chest, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing over a nipple, and Dominic inhales sharply.

“It is,” Hal says, nodding against him. 

Dominic hums thoughtfully for a moment, while Hal’s hand is on its way down again. “I guess that might work,” he concludes, as Hal’s fingers wander down the front of his boxers, and he can feel himself hardening under his touch almost instantly.

“Yes,” Hal says, his mouth wandering from the nape of his neck and to the side, and Dominic can feel a pleasant tingle under his skin as Hal’s lips make contact with his skin. He sighs deeply, feeling the familiar warning only a split second before his fangs descend. “You enjoying that?” Hal murmurs against his neck, hand still stroking up and down his growing bulge through his boxers, and Dominic nods fervently.

“I am,” he breathes, then lets out a small whimper when Hal places another gentle kiss to the side of his neck. “But,” he continues, one hand reaching out to still Hal’s, before he slowly, carefully turns around to face Hal, who looks back at him with a small, confused frown on his face.

“There’s a but?”

Dominic nods. “Yes. You see, at the cottage—”

“Are you still mad at me for making you come on your grandparents’ bed?” Hal asks with a sigh.

Dominic frowns, then lets out a small laugh. “No, Hal. But thank you for bringing that back up again.”

“You’re welcome,” Hal says with a smirk.

“Anyway,” Dominic continues. “What I was going to say…”

“You want me to take you in my mouth again,” Hal suggests, and Dominic huffs and shakes his head.

“No, Hal, that’s exactly the point. What you did was lovely, no doubt about that, and I enjoyed it very much, but…”

“But?” Hal asks, a crestfallen expression on his face, and Dominic reaches out a hand to cup his face, giving him a reassuring smile.

“But it was all about _me_ ,” he explains. “And I… I haven’t yet had a chance to… you know… return the favour.”

He watches as instantly, Hal’s facial features relax, and he gives Dominic a small smile. “I see,” he says. “In that case…” His smile widens. “What were you thinking of doing?”

Dominic smiles back at him. “Well, first of all,” he starts, moving his hand away from Hal’s face and gently pushing against his naked shoulder to get him to lie down on his back. Hal obliges, and Dominic leans over him, meeting his lips in a slow, deep kiss. 

Hal quietly moans into the kiss, and Dominic smiles again as he moves away, peppers small kisses down Hal’s jaw, then his neck, and he can feel the surge of hunger, of need, of _stop everything else and sink your teeth in here right now_ , but he braces himself, clenches his fists, and continues his trail of kisses down the centre of Hal’s chest, stopping briefly at each erect nipple, and he can hear Hal letting out a deep, ragged sigh. 

He lifts his head off Hal’s chest and smiles brightly at him. The very tips of Hal’s fangs are just visible between his lips, and the sight sends a fresh rush of arousal straight into Dominic’s groin. “You enjoying that?” he asks Hal’s earlier question back at him, even as one of his own hands wanders down to rub over the growing bulge in his boxers.

“Oh yes,” Hal replies breathlessly, and it’s all the encouragement Dominic needs to continue his way down Hal’s chest and toned stomach, until he gets to the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his head again, gives Hal a meaningful look, which Hal answers with a small, jerky nod and a minute lift of his hips. Dominic hooks his fingers under the waistband of Hal’s boxers and pulls them down in one swift movement, coming face to face with Hal’s rock-hard length. There is a brief flash of bright light and colour in the room around him, and he can hear Hal let out a breathy chuckle.

Dominic lifts his eyes to meet Hal’s as he circles his fingers around Hal’s erection, pumping up and down a few times, and he can see Hal swallow thickly, watching him intently. Then he leans down and is just about to close his lips around the head of Hal’s cock, when he hears the other’s voice echoing loudly in the silent room. “Dominic, stop.”

His head whips up to face Hal, who wears a puzzling expression that is part amused, part frustrated and part anxious. Dominic frowns. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks tentatively.

Hal huffs, a smile threatening to break out on his lips that he is clearly trying his hardest to suppress. “Perhaps you want to… keep those…” his eyes dart down to Dominic’s slightly parted lips, “away from there,” and he looks down at his own hard cock.

It takes Dominic a moment to fully grasp his meaning, and when he does, he feels a rush of heat rising into his cheeks, and he quickly looks down at the bedsheets next to Hal. “Sorry,” he chokes out.

“No, don’t,” Hal says, reaching out a hand and taking hold of his own, gently squeezing it, and Dominic slowly lifts his eyes to look at him again. “It’s not something you’d necessarily think of,” Hal adds with a small shrug, even as he is still fighting to keep that blasted smile off his face.

Dominic narrows his eyes. “But you…”

“Know how to control my own fangs, Dominic,” Hal says, the smile finally breaking through. He gives his hand another squeeze. “Please don’t feel bad, it’s just… until you’re a bit more… proficient…”

“Oh, please, Hal, don’t say any more,” Dominic groans, and Hal gives him another smile, this one soft and reassuring.

“All right. I’m sorry. All I meant was, there’s… plenty of other things you can still do.”

Dominic nods and looks at Hal for a long moment, a glint appearing in his eyes. “Indeed,” he says finally, leans across the bed, and opens the topmost drawer of the bedside table. He briefly rummages until his fingers close around a small plastic bottle, and he shuts the drawer, drops the bottle on the bed in front of him and sits back on his heels, biting his lip as he looks back at Hal.

Hal’s eyes flick down to the small bottle for a moment, and his eyebrows lift. “Oh?”

“I-I want to feel you inside of me,” Dominic rushes out, heat rising into his cheeks again at hearing his own words, and he quietly adds, “If… if that’s okay… with…” 

“Perfectly okay with me,” Hal replies, letting out a small laugh and smiling brightly at him. 

Dominic nods and hooks his fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up and over his head. He quickly discards it on the bed next to him and does the same with his boxers. Then he reaches out and squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his own fingers before he climbs on top of Hal and leans in to press a deep, sensual kiss to his lips. 

“Let me,” Hal breathes against his lips, just as Dominic reaches around and presses a finger to his entrance, shivering at the familiar-but-enhanced sensation. 

He quickly shakes his head, presses another kiss to Hal’s lips, and says, “No. This is supposed to be all about you, remember? Just let me…” And he presses in, one finger at first, then he adds a second, and a third, stretching himself out, getting himself ready for Hal. A small whimper escapes him as one of his fingers brushes against his prostate, and his eyes flash black for just a split second.

“Mmmh, doesn’t look like you even particularly need me,” Hal says, giving him a teasing smile, and Dominic’s eyes are drawn to his fangs. 

“I do,” Dominic says huskily, leaning down for another kiss, and Hal opens his mouth, allows him to deepen the kiss. Hal’s hands roam down his back as Dominic inserts his fingers again, scissors and stretches until he is sure he is ready. Then he sits up, picks up the bottle and squeezes another generous amount onto his hand before he rubs it up and down Hal’s cock.

Hal lets out a ragged sigh at the touch, and Dominic smiles as he once again leans over him, holding himself up on elbows and knees, and looks deeply into Hal’s eyes as he slowly, carefully lowers himself onto him. One of Hal’s hands shoots out to hold himself in place, and a deep moan escapes his lips as Dominic sinks down on him. 

Dominic feels a moan bubble up from his own chest as he feels Hal’s hard length entering him, and he kisses him again, sitting perfectly still for a long moment as he allows himself to get used to Hal’s size. 

“I do,” he breathes again, a shiver coursing through his body, and Hal chuckles deeply as he kisses him again, before he very slowly sets himself in motion, pulling out, pushing in, getting a rhythm going, and Dominic meets his every thrust, rounds his back to give Hal better access.

They continue this slow, sensual dance for a long moment, only the creak of the old bed and the sound of their heavy, ragged breathing audible in the early morning stillness. Hal pushes himself up on his elbows to meet Dominic in another deep, open-mouthed kiss, before he moves further down, into the crook of his neck, and Dominic feels an anticipatory shiver when Hal’s soft lips make contact with the shiny scar tissue. 

“Please, Hal,” he whispers and lets out a long, shaky breath.

“Hmm?” Hal asks, smiling against his skin. 

“Please bite me,” Dominic clarifies, a surge of arousal coursing through him as soon as the words have left his lips.

It intensifies a moment later, when Hal hums his approval against Dominic neck only a second before there is a feeling of two sharp points breaking through his skin, and Dominic squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a loud moan. His eyes are black when he opens them again, his nostrils quivering at the smell of blood hanging in the air, and he is almost driven wild by the unbearable urge to _taste_.

“Hal,” he chokes out, but Hal doesn’t respond, so Dominic grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls his head away from him. Hal’s head hits the pillow, and Dominic leans forward, down, to crush his lips to Hal’s, tongue slipping out to lap at the blood on his lips. Hal opens his mouth, invites him in to share the taste with him, and they kiss for a long moment, but somehow, it isn’t enough.

Dominic pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans in again, nose brushing against the side of Hal’s neck before he bites down. He can hear Hal whimper underneath him as the blood floods his mouth, Hal’s thrusts becoming sloppier, less precise, as he is overcome by desire, and then Dominic lets out a small surprised breath through his nose when he feels Hal once again sucking on his neck, at the same time as he is, and the double sensation of it combined with Hal’s continued slow thrusts into him is making him feel dizzy.

At some point, he can feel Hal’s hand at the back of his head, pulling him away from his neck, and then Hal is kissing him again, blood mingling on their tongues, and Dominic moans into Hal’s mouth, only to hear the sound echoed by Hal a few moments later. Hal’s hand reaches out for his painfully hard cock, slowly stroking in sync with his thrusts, and Dominic feels his orgasm building until, with another muffled moan, he shoots his release all over Hal’s stomach. Barely a moment later, both of Hal’s hands are in his hair, pulling him against him and kissing him deeply as he comes deep inside Dominic.

They lie still for a long moment, Dominic resting his forehead against Hal’s, chests heaving as they both try to catch their breath. Dominic can feel the woozy, cotton-wool feeling of the blood rush setting in, and he slowly blinks his eyes until they return to normal. Then he pushes himself up, lifts himself off of Hal’s softening length, and lies down on his side, facing Hal. His eyelids feel heavy, and he fights to keep his eyes open.

Hal turns onto his side, facing him, and a gentle hand comes up to cup the side of his face. “Why don’t you try and get a bit more sleep?” he asks.

Dominic’s eyes are drawn to Hal’s mouth, which is still smeared with blood, and he distantly wonders whether his own is, as well, and he thinks that maybe they should get themselves cleaned up, but he is too tired to really care, so he just nods and closes his eyes, calm and happy and sated, and allows himself to fall asleep.

***

“Morning, Alex,” Dominic says as he walks into the kitchen, hands fumbling to do up his tie. 

Alex’s eyes snap up from her phone as he enters, and widen as they roam up and down him, taking in his familiar grey suit. “Morning, Blondie,” she replies. “Wow, you look…”

Dominic throws her an apprehensive look, dropping his hands away from the tie with a frustrated sigh. “Look like what, Alex?”

She quickly shakes her head. “Nothing, just… you look like you used to look, you know. All business. I’d forgotten…” she trails off for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes, before she adds, “Did you know that there was a time when I genuinely wanted to kill you?”

Dominic gives her a stony look. “And instead you decided to torture me with fish.”

“Well, yeah, there was that,” Alex admits, brow furrowing as she watches him fumble with his tie again. “Do you need a hand with that?”

Dominic lets out another frustrated sigh. “I shouldn’t have to,” he snaps. “I used to do this every day. But ever since… I just never tried to do it without—”

“Here, let me,” Hal’s voice pipes up behind him, and before he even knows what is happening, Hal is standing in front of him, both ends of the tie in his hands, and expertly ties it around Dominic’s neck. Then he leans in, places a quick peck on Dominic’s lips and says, “There you go.” 

“Thanks,” Dominic replies, fingers brushing against the smooth knot as he watches Hal step around him to the counter and reach for the kettle. Dominic turns back around to Alex, who appears to have watched their short exchange with some interest. He clears his throat. “How was your date?” he asks nonchalantly.

Alex rolls her eyes. “I already told you, it wasn’t a date. We’re just mates. And I mean, thinking about it, even if we did want to… there’s not an awful lot we could actually do, is there?”

Dominic shrugs. “Not everything has to be about sex.”

“No, you’re right,” Alex says, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Although, judging by your escapades earlier this morning…”

Dominic feels a violent blush rising into his cheeks. “You heard that?”

“Well I’m not deaf,” Alex replies, and Hal snorts out a laugh.

Dominic whirls around and glares at him. “Hal.”

“What?” Hal asks, shrugging. “She’s not deaf, and she can’t sleep. Are you really surprised that she heard that?”

Dominic gives him a disbelieving look. “Well maybe you don’t mind sharing that kind of thing with the world, but I…” he drifts off, shakes his head. “Never mind.”

Hal holds out a mug of tea to him like a peace offering, and Dominic takes it with a sigh, before sitting down across from Alex at the table.

“So, big day, huh?” Alex asks, and Dominic can feel a lump forming in his throat.

“Yes,” he says, dropping his eyes to the tea mug in front of him. 

“Oh, come on, Blondie,” Alex says. “You were the one convincing everyone that you’re safe around humans now. You just go in there and show them what they’ve been missing these last few months. And if you do end up feeling like you can’t control yourself, call me and I’ll rent-a-ghost you out of there.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “You would do that?”

Alex shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

“But do be aware,” Hal speaks up, “that you can really only do that as a last resort. Once they see you disappear into thin air in front of them, the cat will be out of the bag.”

Dominic sighs and nods. “Of course,” he says seriously, then looks back at Alex again. “Thanks for the offer, but let’s hope it won’t have to come to that.”

“Agreed,” she says.

“So, how was your non-date?” Dominic asks, still in that same deadly serious tone, but there is a curious crease forming in his brow now.

Alex gives him a long look. “Why are you so interested in my ghost pal?”

 _I’m not,_ Dominic wants to say, _I just need to talk about something other than work because I feel like I’m going to be sick._

What he says instead is, “You’re my friend, Alex. I’m interested to know what is going on in your li— your—”

“Yeah, all right, I get what you’re trying to say,” Alex says with a smile. “It was… nice,” she adds after a moment. “We… have quite a lot in common, and… it’s good to talk about these things with someone who understands, you know.”

“What things?” Hal asks, a small frown on his face. 

“Oh, you know,” Alex says nonchalantly. “Ghost stuff.”

“Right,” says Hal, then turns back towards Dominic just as he drains the last of his tea. “Ready?”

 _No,_ Dominic thinks desperately. _I’m far from ready. I should not go back there. I should never go back there. This is a very, very bad idea indeed and it will all go terribly, horribly wrong._

He tries on a thin, brittle smile and says, “Yes, I’m ready.”

***

Dominic slowly follows the familiar path through the woods, a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest and a million knots in his stomach, pushing deep, measured breaths of clean forest air into his burning lungs. 

What is he even doing here? What is he trying to prove to himself? He made a vow to himself a long time ago that after what happened to him, he would never be able to return here. He had merely waited for a convenient time to hand in his resignation. 

And now… now he is here, in his suit and his grey woollen coat, with a fresh haircut and shave, about to fool everyone into thinking that nothing has changed. And yet _everything_ has changed. 

He is doing this for Hal,he reminds himself. Because Hal is a suspect in a murder investigation, and he has to prove his innocence. That is why he is here. That is why it is _essential_ for him to be here. 

He takes a deep breath and reaches into his coat, pulling out the remote control as he comes to stop in front of the heavy steel door. He presses the remote… and nothing happens. Dominic frowns, eyes darting between the remote in his hand and the unmoving door in front of him, and he presses it again. And again. 

Frown deepening, he steps up to the door and knocks. There is no response for a long moment, and he is about to raise his hand to knock again when the door swings open, and a surprised looking Mike is standing on the other side. Dominic’s nostrils quiver as he takes in the familiar smell of the human, and he holds his breath, tries to distract himself from the flare of hunger inside of him.

“Sir!” Mike huffs out, watching Dominic with wide eyes. “We didn’t see you coming on the CCTV. Must have sneaked up when we weren’t watching.”

“Er, yes,” Dominic says, clearing his throat loudly. “Looks like I must have. I was trying the remote control, but…”

“Oh, yes, sorry, sir,” says Mike, stepping aside to allow Dominic to step through into the narrow corridor. “We changed the frequency a little while ago, to prevent old remote controls from falling into the wrong hands, you know.”

“Of course,” Dominic says, nodding. “Very sensible.”

“Thank you, sir,” says Mike, a smile on his face. “We’ll get yours recalibrated, of course.”

Dominic nods, then turns and makes his way down the familiar corridor, his stomach wildly somersaulting as he tries to block out the rhythmic sound of Mike’s heartbeat and the alluring smell of his blood in the small space.

 _I can do this,_ he tells himself. _I can do this, I can do this,_ like a mantra. _I did it at the petrol station, and at the solicitors, and in the hotel. I can do it here._

“How are you feeling, sir?” Mike asks as he follows him down the stairs and along another corridor.

“Much better, thank you, Mike,” Dominic says with a small smile over his shoulder. “How have things been here?”

“Difficult without you, sir,” Mike says honestly. “I mean, Adrian is good and all, what with all his police experience, he knows how to do a proper criminal investigation and all that. But he’s not you.”

The smile on Dominic’s face widens involuntarily. “Thank you, Mike.”

“It’s the truth, sir,” Mike says, looking down. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… it’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Dominic says, eyes wandering along the bleak walls of the corridor until they fall onto a familiar door. He reaches out for the handle and slowly pushes the door open to reveal a large archive room beyond, shelves once again filled with myriads of files and boxes. At the other end of the room he can just about make out his desk, and by it stands a grey-clad figure with a mop of dark brown hair. 

At Dominic’s slow approach, the figure turns around to face him, a wide smile on his face as his eyes fall on Dominic.

“Sir, it’s such a relief to see you,” Adrian says, holding out a hand to Dominic.

“It’s good to be back, Adrian,” he replies, smiling as he shakes the other man’s hand. 

“Urgh, it’s still freezing out there, isn’t it?” Adrian says as he lets go of Dominic’s hand, and Dominic lets out a hoarse laugh past the lump in his throat.

“It is indeed.”

Adrian nods, then his eyes flick towards Dominic’s desk. “I just came in to make sure that everything was ready for your return, sir,” he says. “Here you go.” 

Dominic’s eyes follow Adrian’s to an assortment of items laid out on the desk in front of him. Among them a silver knife, an intricately carved stake… and a plain black wooden cross. Dominic feels a sharp pain in his forehead as soon as he lays eyes on the cross, and he clenches his teeth hard to keep himself from wincing. His eyes feel itchy, and he forcefully stops himself from blinking.

“Welcome back, sir,” Adrian says somewhere next to him, and Dominic quickly tears his eyes away from the cross, grabs hold of the knife and stake, and turns back to his work colleague instead.

“Thank you, Adrian,” he says, forcing a smile.

Adrian smiles back at him, but then his brow furrows and he gestures back to the desk. “Aren't you forgetting something, sir?”

Dominic swallows hard as his eyes wander back to the desk, and he tries to look at a spot just beneath the cross, but he can still see it in his peripheral vision, and another sharp jolt of pain courses through his head. 

He nods jerkily. “Yes, of course,” he says and, clenching his teeth, reaches out and touches the tips of his fingers to the wooden cross. It takes all his willpower not to flinch away at the white-hot burning pain that shoots up his arm, and he tightens his hand around the smooth wood until his knuckles turn white, ignoring the slight burning smell in the air and the tiny waft of smoke as he quickly lifts the cross off the table and drops it into his coat pocket. As quickly as he pushed it in, he extricates his hand from the pocket, keeping it clenched in a tight fist to not show the charred flesh of his palm.

“You all right, sir?” Adrian asks. “You’re looking a bit faint.” 

Dominic’s eyes dart up to see the other man watching him with a frown, and he sighs. “Yes, I… I’m just still not feeling a hundred percent, and being back here… it’s strange after such a long time away.”

“I can understand that, sir,” Adrian says, looking thoughtful. “Maybe you want to… just go and get yourself freshened up?” he suggests.

Dominic nods. “Yes, thank you, Adrian. I think I will do that.”

“Good,” Adrian says with a smile. “You do that, and perhaps when you get back I can run you through the case we were talking about the other day.”

“Yes,” Dominic says with another nod. “That sounds like an excellent plan.” And trying his hardest not to look like he is fleeing, he makes his way as quickly as he can to the men’s room. He turns on the tap in one of the sinks with his left hand while carefully unclenching his right, taking a cautious look at the damage. Even though his skin has already started to heal itself, there is still an angry red welt across his entire palm and the tips of his fingers, and there is a faint smell of barbecue in the air that makes Dominic want to heave. He quickly stretches out his hand and lets the cold water run over the burns, a deep sigh escaping him as the pain is instantly numbed. 

Between the cold water and his body’s vastly enhanced healing ability, the burn soon is nothing more than a faint pink patch of skin, and Dominic turns off the tap and pulls a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry his hand.

He turns away from the sink, swallows thickly, then takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. Time to find out what all this nonsense is about. 


	20. Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! You seriously make my day!
> 
> Also, check out this absolutely stunning [fan art](https://drjohnweston.tumblr.com/post/188308155123/hb-2b-8b-felt-tip-pen-fineliner-for) done by the amazing [drjohnweston](https://drjohnweston.tumblr.com) over on tumblr. Thank you so, so much! It's beautiful!

There's nothing believable  
In being honest  
So cover your lies up  
With another promise

\- Editors, “Blood”

 

“Are you feeling better, sir?” Adrian asks with a smile as Dominic slowly walks down the large room towards him.

Dominic throws the younger man a small smile in return. “Yes, thank you, Adrian.”

“I made you a cup of tea, sir,” Adrian says, pointing to one of the two steaming mugs sitting on the desk next to a plain grey file. It’s Dominic’s union jack mug, he notices, and it makes a warm feeling of nostalgia course through him for a moment. “I hope that’s all right?”

Dominic’s head snaps up, and he nods. “Yes, Adrian, thank you.”

He walks around the desk and takes a seat in his chair, running hesitant fingertips across the smooth wooden surface of the desk. The sound of the human’s heartbeat is still present, still echoing quietly around the vast room, but Dominic is surprised to find that he can almost ignore it, that the familiarity of his surroundings and the scent of strong tea – most likely Yorkshire, he thinks – is able to ground him enough to almost, _almost_ make the hunger go away.

Dominic takes a deep breath and smiles up at Adrian, who still hovers by the side of his desk. “Please, Adrian, take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty chair in front of the desk. 

Adrian nods and sits down, and Dominic takes the opportunity to lift the mug up to his lips, taking a small, careful sip of the hot liquid. The sheer strength of the tea makes it somehow more palatable, and Dominic makes a mental note to discuss the possibility of changing their default brand at home. 

Dominic’s head snaps up when Adrian clears his throat, and he follows the other man’s eyes to the file lying on the desk in front of him. 

“Shall we?” Adrian asks, and Dominic nods and opens the file…

And almost dry heaves at the sight that greets him. 

The woman’s body is grey and bloated, lying naked on an examination table, covered head to toe in what he can only assume are small animal bites. And yet, despite all the damage and decay, there are two sights that immediately catch his attention. He lifts up one of the photographs to have a closer look. The neck of the woman has been ripped open by sharp, vicious teeth, belonging to a creature much larger than anything you would ever find in Loch Linnhe. Dominic swallows as he drops the photograph back onto the desk and picks up the one below, showing the same kind of deep, ragged wound, but this time high up on the inside of the woman’s thigh.

Dominic’s nostrils flare as he feels his body react to the pictures, as if he can almost _smell_ the blood emanating from them, until he realises that the blood he can smell is Adrian’s, whose heart has started beating faster and harder as he has been watching him.

“What are you thinking, sir?” Adrian asks hesitantly.

Dominic clears his throat and clenches one of his hands into a fist in his lap, nails digging into the palm of his hand, to keep himself focused and grounded. “I think you’re right,” he says, voice sounding more croaky than anticipated. “It was definitely a v— a Type 2 attack. The… location of the wounds right by two of the body’s largest arteries is too precise to be coincidence, and there are no other, similar wounds, so I think we can rule out an animal attack.”

Adrian nods. “My thoughts exactly, sir.” 

Dominic lifts his eyes to him. “Well done, Adrian. You’re learning quickly.”

Adrian smiles. “Thank you, sir.” Then his eyes fall back on the file, and he sighs deeply. “Now, onto the more puzzling part of the case, sir,” he says. Dominic gives him a small nod, and he continues, “As you know, the body was found on the shore of Loch Linnhe five days ago. The coroner reckons it has been in the water for at least three, maybe four weeks. And that’s where it gets interesting,” he finishes, giving Dominic a piercing look.

“Interesting how?” Dominic asks, frowning.

Adrian takes a deep breath and says, “The woman’s name was Karen Richards. She was from Warrington, Cheshire. Her and her husband—”

“Warrington?” Dominic asks, his frown deepening. “So how did she end up in Scotland? Holiday?”

“That’s the thing,” Adrian says, lifting his eyebrows at him. “Her and her husband went on a Christmas break…” he pauses and Dominic starts nodding, until Adrian adds, “to Barry.”

Dominic feels his chest constrict. “Barry,” he repeats faintly.

Adrian nods. “Barry. And three guesses which hotel they were staying at.”

Dominic’s eyes flick back down to the pictures in front of him, to the brutal gashes in the woman’s flesh. His throat constricts, and he quickly shakes his head. “You said she was there with her husband,” he points out, meeting Adrian’s eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Adrian confirms. “But the husband left early, some kind of work emergency, and… she never made it home. He reported her missing a few days later.”

Dominic shakes his head again, almost compulsively. “That still doesn’t explain how she ended up in Scotland.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Adrian agrees. “That’s where the real mystery begins. Why Scotland? Why there? I mean, if he killed her in Barry, how did he even manage to get her up there without anyone noticing?”

“Exactly,” Dominic says quickly. “Even while I have been away, I have had my… informants at the Barry Grand, and… and I would’ve known if H— if… SJ031…” he breaks off, clears his throat, “I would have known if he had gone on any kind of… extended trip. Chances are, she was already in Scotland when she died, and the v— the Type 2 that did it just… dumped her in the lake when they were finished with her.”

“I suppose that sounds plausible, sir,” Adrian says. “But what would’ve brought her to Scotland in the first place? Why not go back home?”

Dominic shrugs. “I don’t know. Secret love affair?” He lifts his eyes to meet Adrian’s again, the younger man’s face darkening at his words.

“With a Type 2?” he spits. 

Dominic holds his gaze, shrugs again. “It’s not completely unheard of.”

Adrian shudders and shakes his head. “Certainly something I’d rather not think about, sir.”

“Perhaps not,” Dominic says, “but it’s something worth investigating.” He throws a small smile in Adrian’s direction. “Leave it to me, I will… make some enquiries, see if I can trace her steps from when her husband left the Barry Grand.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adrian says, returning his smile. He gets up and is about to turn around and leave when he hesitates, turns back to Dominic and says, “It’s good to have you back, sir. It’s all been getting a bit much, to be honest, what with that blasted Type 1 army still out there, not to mention keeping all those Type 2 kids in check—”

“They’re still here?” Dominic jumps in, eyes widening at the other’s words.

Adrian frowns. “Of course they are, sir. Where would they have gone?”

Dominic shakes his head. “You’re still keeping them locked up in that tiny room?”

“The room is hardly tiny, sir,” Adrian counters. “And we don’t really have much of a choice, do we? Not with those crazy Type 1s still on the loose. That was the reason we brought them here in the first place.”

“I understand that,” Dominic says, nodding. “But you can’t just keep those children locked up in that room, Adrian, it’s… it’s been _months_.”

Adrian frowns at him. “With all due respect, sir, they’re not _children._ They’re Type 2s.”

Dominic feels a lump forming in his throat, and he quickly swallows it down. “Regardless of that,” he says, fighting to keep his composure. “I will… pay them a visit. See how they’re getting on. And I would like _you_ to go and find them some… more suitable living quarters.”

“But sir—”

“ _Now_ , Adrian!” Dominic bellows.

Adrian takes an involuntary step back, even as he nods and says, “Of course, sir.”

“Thanks,” Dominic replies, nodding as the other man turns around again and makes his way down the long aisle towards to the door. He is almost at the other end of the room when Dominic feels his mobile vibrate in his pocket, and quickly pulls it out. 

He smiles when he reads the message awaiting him on the screen.

**Hey Blondie, how’s work? I hope you’re not having too much fun without me.**

Throwing another quick glance across the room, Dominic watches Adrian leave the room before he looks back down at his phone and types out a quick reply.

_**I can’t say that I do. But I also haven’t killed anyone yet, so there’s a positive.**_

He presses send, then sighs and adds,

_**How about you?**_

Hal doesn’t take long to respond.

**I’m pretty bored actually. Not much going on at the hotel. Thinking of you.**

Dominic smiles.

**_Thinking of me? Anything in particular?_ **

****

****

**You mean apart from your dazzling looks and captivating personality?**

Dominic chuckles quietly to himself, when Hal follows the message up with another.

**If you must know, I’ve been thinking of the way you said my name last night, when you were riding my cock.**

Dominic almost chokes on a mouthful of saliva, coughing loudly as he replies,

**_Hal!_ **

****

****

**What?**

_**I’m at work.**_

**So am I.**

Dominic huffs.

**_So perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about that right now._ **

****

****

**You asked.**

_Fair point,_ Dominic thinks. _So I did._ Then Hal’s next message arrives, and Dominic’s breath catches in his throat.

**I love you.**

Dominic stares at the screen for the longest moment, thumb hovering above the keyboard, unsure what to do. Finally, he swallows, bites his lip and types out,

**_I love you too. See you this evening._**

Then he quickly locks the phone, puts it away in his pocket and, a stupidly big smile on his face, makes his way across the large room, in the direction of the Type 3 block.

***

Hal smiles brightly as he stares at his screen, then reluctantly locks it and is about to put it away in his pocket when a newspaper is unceremoniously slammed down on the desk in front of him. 

“Hey freak,” Natasha says, giving him a dark scowl, and Hal sighs.

“I thought we had finally moved past that, Natasha,” he says quietly.

Natasha huffs. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly making it easy.”

“What do you mean—” Hal starts, brow furrowing, when she pointedly looks down at the newspaper in front of him, finger tapping at a headline.

“You know anything about this?” she asks tensely. “Lou says you knew the guy, so I thought…”

Any further words are drowned out by the sudden buzzing in Hal’s ears that sets in as soon as his eyes fall on the paper in front of him. Jamie’s bright blue eyes are staring back at him from the page, and the words above the picture are swimming in and out of focus, making him read the headline several times over before the meaning of the words actually registers with him, and a violent bout of nausea settles into his gut.

 _What did you do?_ he asks inward, into the silent, unresponsive space inside his head. _What the fuck did you do? I ask you to stay away from him, and you… you go and kill him in cold blood? What the hell is wrong with you?_

There is only silence in reply and Hal only barely resists the urge to punch himself in the face, anything to get the bastard to come out of hiding.

“Hal?” Natasha’s voice drifts in from far away, and his eyes flick up from the newspaper, blinking a few times to bring her into focus. She is looking back at him with a deep frown on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he says quickly, giving her a small, unconvincing smile. “You were asking?”

Natasha huffs. “I was askingif you know anything about _this_?” she taps the article again. “Because Lou said that apparently you knew him, so…”

“I did,” Hal chokes out, nodding. “I did know him. He… applied for a job here once, and we got talking—”

“Did you sleep with him?” Natasha cuts in, and Hal’s eyes widen.

“No, Natasha, of course I didn’t.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” she mutters, then adds, louder, “Because Lou said it looked like he was quite into you.”

Hal shakes his head. “No, I… I mean, maybe, I don’t know. He might have been. But that’s not even…” he stares at the picture of Jamie for another long moment, then lifts his eyes to look directly into hers, “I had no idea about this, I swear, Natasha. I don’t know what happened to him.”

She lifts her eyebrows at him. “The article says quite clearly what happened to him, Hal. Neck snapped with bare hands?” She shrugs. “Sounds like something a vampire would do to me.”

“Natasha, please, I didn’t—”

“Hey, you all righ’?” Tom’s voice drifts over from the doorway then, and Hal clears his throat loudly, just as Natasha snitches the paper away from the reception desk and hides behind her back. 

“Oh, hey,” she says with a bright smile at Tom. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

Tom walks over to where she stands in front of the reception desk, a matching smile on his own face as he quickly leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Good,” he mumbles. “Jus’ makin’ sure. Don’t want ya to overdo it, ya know.”

Natasha gives him a small, good-natured eye roll. “Stop worrying, worrywart,” she says, then smiles disarmingly as Tom’s face falls. She quickly stands up on her tiptoes and presses another kiss to Tom’s cheek, whispering, “I’m okay, really. I need to get on now, though. I’ll see you later.”

Throwing him another bright smile, she disappears through the doors into the dining room, and Tom looks after her for a long moment, a dreamy look on his face.

“I still can’t believe it, sometimes, ya know,” he says, turning towards Hal. “That we’re really… I mean…” he drifts off, a frown settling on his face. “Hal, can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Of course, Tom,” Hal says quickly, a brief smile flitting across his face.

Tom nods. “It’s just… ya know, now that me an’ Tasha… that we’re… I mean…” he drifts off again, lets out a frustrated sigh. “Now that we’re gonna be parents an’ that… I feel like I should… ya know?” He gives Hal a hopeful look.

Hal’s forehead creases. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m afraid I don’t,” he says honestly. “You should what?”

“That I should… ya know…” he pauses once more, takes a deep breath, then rushes out, “that I should propose to ‘er.”

Hal feels another smile settling on his face. “That’s great, Tom,” he says, and Tom beams back at him.

“Ya think?”

“Yeah,” Hal says, nodding. 

Tom’s eyebrows draw together. “But if she says no?” he asks quietly. “I mean…”

“I’m sure she won’t,” Hal reassures him. 

Tom sighs deeply, looking back towards the now closed doors that Natasha disappeared through only moments earlier. “But still, I… I mean… I don’t know.”

“Was this what you were going to ask me?” Hal asks. 

“No,” Tom replies, shuffling his feet. “I was gonna… well, I was thinkin’… seein’ as yer, like, five hundred an’ that…” His eyes snap up to meet Hal’s, and he swallows. “How d’ya do it?” he asks. “I mean, how d’ya actually… like… ask ‘em?”

Hal’s smile turns slightly melancholic. “And what makes you think that I’m an expert on marriage proposals, Tom?” 

Tom frowns. “Well, like I was sayin’, yer, like, hundreds of years old, an’ I… I jus’ though’ you’d of done it loads of times, is all.”

Hal swallows thickly. “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘loads’,” he says quietly. When he looks up at Tom, he notices a glint in his friend’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth lifting up.

“How many times ya been married then, oh great, vastly experienced Hal?” he asks, a grin breaking out on his face by the end of it.

Hal’s eyebrows lift up. “You don’t need to be married to have sexual experiences, you know?” 

Tom huffs. “Yeah, I know that, Hal. Now stop changin’ the subject an’ answer the question.”

Hal looks back at Tom for a long moment, then drops his eyes to the desk before him and says, “A lot less than you probably think.”

He can feel Tom’s expectant gaze on him for a long time, but doesn’t say anything more, and eventually Tom sighs and says, “All righ’, suit yerself. But ya have _been_ married, yeah?”

Hal chuckles. “Yes, Tom.”

“So… how d’ya do it?” Tom asks, and Hal looks up to see him giving him a desperate look. “I jus’… I don’t know how to ask the question, ya know? Do I… take ‘er out for dinner? But then the last time we did that weren’t exactly a huge success, an’ I dunno if it’d be any different this time, an’—”

“Just ask her,” Hal interjects, giving his friend another encouraging smile. “You know Natasha so much better than I do, Tom. You know what she likes, what she doesn’t. Just… do what your heart tells you.”

Tom looks at him silently for a long time, obviously mulling his advice over in his head. Then he slowly nods and says, “Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks, mate.”

“You’re welcome, Tom,” Hal says quietly, smiling to himself as he watches his friend’s retreating back until he disappears around the corner. 

Once he is absolutely sure that Tom is not going to come back, he once again reaches inwards, finds the space just as empty, the strong, sturdy wall just as intact as before.

 _Talk to me,_ he shouts into the void. But just as before, there is no answer.

***

Dominic takes a deep breath, opens the door and lets his eyes wander across what once used to be Bobby’s room. He notices Fleur sitting in a comfy looking armchair, reading a book, so engrossed that she doesn’t even look up as he enters, while all five of the kids are huddled together in one of the corners, crowding around what looks like an old-fashioned gameboy. Dominic chuckles, thinking where in the deepest recesses of the Archive his men dug up that kind of antiquity.

At hearing his quiet laughter, one of the children turns around to him. “Mr Rook,” the boy calls, smiling over at him before, a moment later, his eyes grow almost impossibly wide and he shouts, “Holy shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Fleur asks, alarmed eyes darting back and forth between Dominic, still standing motionlessly by the door, and all five of the kids now staring at him in shocked disbelief.

“He’s a v—”

“Shh! Listen,” Dominic cuts in, giving the boy an imploring look. “Bernie isn’t it?” The boy nods. “Listen, Bernie. I… I know you can tell what… what h-happened to me.” He pauses, swallows. “But please, for now at least, you can’t let anyone else here know about it, okay?”

Bernie frowns and nods. “Okay,” he says slowly. Then his eyes flick over towards Fleur, and he adds, “Not even mum?”

Dominic sighs and is about to reply when Fleur stands up from her chair, frowns at him and says, “I don’t care what your reasons are for keeping secrets from your coworkers, but I demand to be told what is going on _right now_.”

The tone of her voice is so stern it’s almost comical, and Dominic can’t keep a small smile from flitting across his lips, even as he fights the hunger that is flaring up inside of him again at her slow approach. “All right,” he says, his eyes wandering back across to the group of kids, and he nods at Bernie.

“He’s a vampire,” Bernie blurts out without preamble, and Fleur freezes, her own eyes growing wide as she slowly looks him up and down.

“Is… is that true?” she asks. Dominic nods, and an expression of pure sadness and pity comes over her. “But why? I thought you said—”

“I’d really rather not discuss that, if it’s all the same to you, Fleur,” Dominic throws in quickly. 

Fleur gives him a sharp look, but nods all the same. “Of course.” There is a long pause, in which none of them seems to know what to day, before Fleur speaks up again. “So this is what kept you away for so long.”

Dominic’s nostrils flare involuntarily as he gets a waft of her blood, and he takes a step backwards. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’ve been… making sure I’m able to control myself before I came back out into the world.” He gives her a thin smile, which she returns.

“I’m sure Hal will have been a great help with that,” she says. “He seemed like a very level-headed kind of guy, and he certainly knows his stuff.”

“Yes,” Dominic says, perhaps a little bit too quickly. Fleur briefly narrows her eyes at him, but doesn’t say anything more, and Dominic lets out a deep breath. 

“Was it Hal that recruited you?” another voice then speaks up from the corner, and Dominic turns around to see the oldest boy – Jake – looking at him with interest.

Dominic nods. “Yes, it was.”

“Wow,” Jake breathes, taking a step towards him. “You were sired by an Old One. You must be so powerful.”

Dominic swallows. “I… I guess,” he says, forehead creasing. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Jake huffs. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Have you not been out there, testing your skills?”

“No,” Dominic replies, shaking his head. “I haven’t been doing anything of the sort, I’m afraid.”

Jake huffs, slowly walking towards him. “Are you for real? You’re given this incredible gift, and you’re… what? Shutting yourself away at home, the same way you’ve shut us away in here, because you’re scared you might _hurt someone_?” He comes to a stop right in front of Dominic, almost the same height as him despite his chronological age of a mere thirteen years. 

“Jake,” Fleur says in a warning tone somewhere to his left, but Jake doesn’t seem to heed her warning as he stands his ground and glares right up at Dominic.

“I don’t consider it a gift,” Dominic says through clenched teeth. “And yes, hurting people is out of the question. A lesson which I thought you would have learned by now, Jake.”

“Yeah, you know what? Fuck you and your _lessons_ , I’ve had enough of this shit,” Jake growls, and before Dominic fully knows what is happening, Jake’s hands are flying out, pushing against his chest, and he is thrown off balance, stumbling backwards until his back crashes into the wire mesh grid of the cage with a loud, reverberating _clang_. 

“Jake!” Fleur shouts, jumping forward as Dominic tries to push himself to his feet again. 

An arm reaches out, gripping his shoulder, pulling him up, and it feels like time slows down to a crawl as Dominic finds himself engulfed by the most delicious scent, so strong he can almost physically feel it on his tongue as he inhales sharply through slightly parted lips. The sound of her heartbeat is deafening, sped up by the shock of what just happened, and Dominic’s eyes are drawn to her chest, to the origin of that sound. Then, suddenly, time speeds up again, and the room explodes in bright light and colour, and his fangs break through, and a low growl escapes his throat before he has any chance to stop himself. 

Fleur flinches back, eyes huge and fixed on his. “Dominic?” she asks in a small, tentative voice.

He shakes his head, clenches his jaw, croaks out, “Stay away, Fleur, please. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He turns his head to see five pairs of terrified eyes watching him from the corner, including Jake, who has rejoined his brothers and sisters and is nervously biting his lip as he stares straight into Dominic’s jet black eyes. Dominic looks back at him for a long moment, taking deep breath after deep breath until he can slowly, gradually feel the hunger subside. He blinks repeatedly, willing his eyes back to normal, to no avail. 

Finally, he drops his gaze to the floor, sighs deeply and says, “Remember what I told you. Please keep this to yourselves for now. I will…” he lifts his eyes to Fleur, tries to soften his expression as much as he possibly can in his manifested state. “I will arrange some more… suitable accommodation for you, and try to get on top of this ghost problem as soon as possible to make it safe for you to go out again.”

He quickly turns around, hand already on the door handle when Fleur says, “Dominic.” He turns around, gives her a quizzical look. Fleur swallows, hesitates for a moment, then smiles at him. “Thank you,” she says. “We appreciate it. And… I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

Dominic briefly smiles back at her and nods. “Thanks, Fleur.”

Then he quickly turns around, opens the door and lets himself out of the room, eyes fixed on the ground as he rushes along the empty corridor, still furiously blinking, focusing on getting his eyes back to normal. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a couple of grey-clad figures coming around a corner further along the corridor, and he stops, takes a quick look around him to find a grey door to his left with a black number ‘one’ written on it. 

Dominic swallows, eyes darting back to the two men walking towards him, chatting amongst themselves without taking any notice of him, and he throws open the door and dives into the old archive room, quickly pulling the door shut behind him. Once inside, he lets his head fall back against the closed door, squeezes his eyes tightly shut and lets out a long, deep breath. 

What was he thinking, coming back here? Did he really think he could keep himself safe, that he could control the bloodthirsty monster dwelling inside of him? What was he thinking?

“Mr Rook?” a familiar voice calls out, and Dominic’s eyes fly open before he can stop himself, falling on his oldest work colleague.

Arthur gasps loudly, taking a step back as one of his hands reflexively reaches into his pocket.

“No, please,” Dominic croaks out, eyes flicking down to Arthur’s hand in his pocket, and he throws out a placating hand in front of him. “Please don’t… I… I won’t do anything, Arthur, I promise. I just…” he trails off, squeezes his eyes shut again, a painful lump rising into his throat. 

_Well, this is it then,_ he thinks dejectedly. _I haven’t even lasted a single day._

“Mr Rook?” Arthur asks again, in a small, disbelieving voice. 

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Dominic says, keeping his eyes firmly shut. “I understand that you will have to report me, but please, I haven’t hurt anyone. Don’t… don’t lock me away.”

“Don’t be daft, sir,” Arthur replies, and once again, Dominic’s eyes blink open against his will. He lets out a deep, relieved sigh when he realises that his vision has finally returned to normal, but then he remembers Arthur’s last words, and he looks at him with a furrowed brow. 

“Arthur?” he asks tentatively. 

Arthur shakes his head. “Come with me, sir,” he says and starts walking away from him, to the other end of the room, where there is a large reading table and a group of simple wooden chairs. Dominic remembers sitting here as a boy, half a dozen files open in front of him, eyes big with wonder as he read what to him at the time were little more than fantastical adventure stories. Arthur turns around to him, pulls one of the chairs out from under the table, gives him a hesitant smile and says, “Have a seat, sir.”

Dominic does as he is told, flopping down in the chair, dropping his gaze to the table in front of him. “Arthur, I… don’t know how to—”

“I think explanations can wait five minutes, don’t you, sir?” Arthur says good-naturedly, and Dominic’s forehead creases as he looks back up at him. “I for one need a good strong cup of tea after all that.”

Dominic chokes out a small laugh, shaking his head as he stares at the other man. “By all means, Arthur,” he says hoarsely. 

Arthur nods curtly. “Very well, sir. You wait here and… catch your breath. I’ll be right back.”

Dominic nods and watches Arthur turn his back on him and walk across the large room to the door, not taking a single look back at the dangerous predator lurking behind him, and he shakes his head in wonder. Once the door has fallen shut behind Arthur, Dominic actually takes the man’s advice and takes several slow, deep breaths, feels his fangs retract and his body return to a calmer, peaceful state. 

Before he knows it, the door at the other end of the room opens again, and Arthur steps through, carrying a small tray with what from a distance looks like two tea mugs and one other, smaller object he can’t immediately make out. As Arthur comes closer, however, Dominic’s eyes are drawn to the other, the third object on the tray, and he feels all his hard work of the last few minutes dissipate in one quick moment as his eyes home in on the familiar looking flask. He swallows thickly and forces his eyes away from it, focusing on Arthur’s face instead as he comes to a halt in front of him, not quite meeting Dominic’s eyes and a somewhat sheepish expression on his face.

Arthur clears his throat. “I… I wasn’t sure whether to bring tea or… well, you know, so… so I brought both.” He puts the three items down on the table, then looks up and finally meets Dominic’s eyes. “I hope that’s okay, sir?”

Dominic stares at the small flask again for a long moment, then shakes his head and says, “Tea is absolutely fine, Arthur, thanks.”

“All right, sir,” Arthur says, sweeping the flask back up from the table and dropping it into his pocket. 

Dominic gives Arthur a small smile as he sits down at the table across from him with a curious look on his face. He lifts the mug up to his lips, takes a small sip, then sets it down again and says, “Thank you, Arthur.”

“Anytime, sir,” Arthur says, still with that wondrous look on his face, and Dominic’s forehead creases.

“You’re not… going to report me then?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Goodness, no, sir,” Arthur exclaims. “Do you have any idea what they would do with you if they…” he trails off, shakes his head. “No. It’s taken long enough for you to come back to us as it is. You’re the only one who really knows how to run this show.”

Dominic huffs out a quiet laugh, takes another sip of tea. “You surprise me, Arthur.”

“Really, sir?” Arthur replies. “Because I’m loyal to the man that has led this department better than any other?” He pauses, shakes his head. “I have known you since you were a small boy, Dominic,” he says then, and Dominic starts at the familiar address, something he is not used to from the other man. “I saw you grow up in this place, and I saw you grow cold and unfeeling, just like your father wanted you to be. I saw you fighting ruthlessly, callously for the survival of the department, and then I saw you fail, and fall apart.”

Dominic frowns. “I didn’t—”

“You did, sir,” Arthur says, a small, sad smile flitting across his face. “I never agreed with the way your father raised you, you know. But I didn’t feel that it was my place to say anything, so I did the only thing I could do.” 

“And that was?”

“I did exactly what he told me to do. ‘Look after Dominic,’ he said, so, so many times. ‘Take care of him, make sure he is safe, don’t let anything happen to him.’ So I did. I ensured your safety, I looked after you until you didn’t need looking after anymore. I taught you the skills you needed to survive on your own, and then, as you made your way up through the ranks, I started to follow your leadership, the way I used to follow his. And I’m not just going to stop now because of some blasted curse, sir.”

Dominic stares at the other man for a long moment, the tea mug clutched between his hands, at a complete loss of what to say. 

“You know, in all my years I don’t think I have ever seen you speechless, sir,” Arthur says, a small smile on his face as he takes a sip of his own tea.

“I’m… sorry, Arthur,” Dominic says. “I just… didn’t expect…”

“Oh, look at the two of us getting all sentimental,” Arthur says loudly, and he puts his mug back down on the table, pushes his chair back and stands up. “Better get back to work. Files don’t sort themselves, do they.”

“Indeed,” Dominic says, smiling. 

“You sit here as long as you need to, sir,” Arthur continues in the same overly loud voice, almost as if he wants to be overheard. “It must be hard, getting back to work after such a long illness.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” he says, and takes another sip of his tea.

“You’re welcome, sir,” Arthur replies, turning away and lifting his clipboard off the files trolley. “Welcome back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Arthur suddenly turned up in the final scene and completely hijacked it lol. I hadn't planned this at all, but I love it when minor supporting characters just suddenly develop a life of their own and run with it. It's one of the most exciting parts of writing for me.


	21. Uncovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, guys. I'm so, so sorry. Please don't hate me. It's all happening for a reason, I promise.

Maybe I listen more than you think  
And I can tell that somebody sold you  
We said we’d never let anyone in  
We said we'd only die of lonely secrets

\- The National, “The System Only Dreams In Total Darkness”

 

The rented charcoal grey Audi slows to a halt a short way up the road from the hotel entrance, and Dominic’s eyes nervously flick across to the familiar building. His tongue darts out to lick the last traces of Hal’s blood off his lips, and he swallows thickly.

There is a faint buzz running through his body, but the hunger is still strong within him, clawing away at his insides, and Dominic can’t shake the feeling that Hal’s blood has somehow lost its potency. Or that, perhaps, he has started to build up a tolerance, which, in the grand scheme of things, is a much more frightening thought.

Taking a deep breath, Dominic reaches out to open the car door, when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He takes a quick glance at the screen and, with a heavy sigh, lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Dominic?” the frantic voice of Alistair Frith sounds through the speaker, and Dominic leans his head back against the head rest, letting out another, quieter sigh.

“What do you want to know, Alistair?”

“Perhaps start with when you even decided to pronounce yourself fit for work again? I mean, lets not even get started on the fact that from what I have heard, HR haven’t seen a single sick note or anything at all from your doctor to say exactly _why_ you were off work for the last six weeks! Now let me tell you, Dominic, just because I basically told you that you are indispensable doesn’t mean that there are no limits—”

“I had an accident,” Dominic rushes out. “A car accident? I thought you knew about that.”

Alistair sighs. “Yes, Dominic, of course I know about that. But the accident was in September. I also know that it took you a long time to get back on your feet again, but you even came to the Archive back in December, bringing… that creature along with you, and from what I heard everyone felt like you were about to return to work, and then… nothing.”

Dominic exhales sharply through his nose. “His name is Hal, Alistair, not ‘that creature’. I thought we’ve had that conversation.”

“No, Dominic,” Alistair bellows down the phone line, “ _you’ve_ had that conversation. I don’t remember ever agreeing with you on any of the points you raised about your ‘relationship’ with that vile animal. From what I remember of our conversation, you agreed to keep the whole thing quiet. And next thing I know, you parade him into the Archive for all the world to see!”

“I took him there for a reason, Alistair!” Dominic shouts back, then shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm himself down. It won’t do to lose his temper right now. “What I meant to say was,” he continues, quieter, “that Hal was a good, calming influence on the child Type 2s at the Archive, and we would’ve been foolish not to take advantage of that.”

Alistair huffs loudly. “A good, calming influence, you say? Looking at the influence he has clearly had on you, I find that rather difficult to believe. I barely recognise you anymore, Dominic.”

Dominic chokes out a humourless laugh. “Whatever you say, Alistair. Now, was there something specific you wanted to know, or did you just call me up to vent?”

“I don’t like your tone, Dominic,” Alistair says warningly. Dominic sighs and shakes his head, but decides that it is not worth replying, and Alistair soon continues, “But what I was actually calling about was to find out what on Earth is going on with your… ‘Hal’? I’ve heard rumours that he has been—”

“As you rightly say, Alistair,” Dominic jumps in, “they are rumours. As a matter of fact, I am just now about to speak to some of the staff at the hotel to hopefully find out what actually happened. But I can assure you, Alistair, that Hal has had nothing to do with this woman’s death.”

There is a long silence before Alistair says, “I hope for your sake that you’re right, Dominic. I am, quite honestly, at the end of my tether with you. One more misstep, and I feel that I will be forced to—”

“One _more_?” Dominic asks, narrowing his eyes. “What other missteps have there been, Alistair? When have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

Alistair is once more silent for a long moment before replying, “Don’t try me, Dominic.” He pauses, then adds, “I expect a full report on my desk by the end of the week. If there are any signs at all after you have completed your investigation that the Type 2 has fallen back into his old ways, I will have to insist that he goes back into secure confinement.”

Dominic swallows, nods. “I understand, Alistair, but I assure you that there will be no need for that. I will have my report with you by Friday. Have a good day.”

He drops the phone into his lap, lets his head drop back, closes his eyes and takes a few deep, measured breathes to calm himself, startled when there is a loud knock on the passenger window. His head whips around in the direction of the noise, only to see an apprehensive looking Mike standing outside, glancing into the car with one hand shielding himself from the sun.

Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up as he lowers the passenger window. “Mike? What are you doing here?”

Mike clears his throat. “Mr O’Brien told me to come and assist you, sir. He said it would be a good learning experience.”

Dominic frowns. “As far as I’m aware, _Mr O’Brien_ isn’t leading this investigation, Mike. I am. And I don’t remember asking for backup.”

Mike takes a small step back from the window, looking rather like kicked puppy. “I’m sorry, sir. I think Mr O’Brien thought, since it’s only your second day back on the job, that maybe you could do with another pair of hands to help you out. But if you’d like me to leave…”

Dominic takes a deep breath, musters up a small smile. “No, don’t worry Mike.” His eyes dart over to the hotel again. “I suppose Adrian is right, it _is_ a good learning opportunity for you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mike says, just as Dominic opens the driver’s door and gets out of the car.

He turns back around to the taller man and gives him another small smile. “As I said, don’t worry about it. Just… let me do the talking for now, and follow my lead, all right?”

Mike nods enthusiastically. “Of course, sir.”

Dominic smiles and nods back at him, then turns and crosses the road towards the hotel. He hears Mike following along behind him, the sound of his heartbeat so loud it almost drowns out that of his footsteps. Dominic holds his breath and focuses on setting one foot in front of the other until he makes it to the door.

“Good morning, gentlemen, can I help you?” a chirpy young blonde woman greets them from behind the reception desk. Dominic stops in his tracks, Mike almost crashing into him as he gets a sudden waft of the most delicious blood he has ever smelled. He swallows down the saliva collecting in his mouth, tries on a small, friendly smile, and walks up to the reception desk in slow, measured strides.

“I hope so,” he says, then glances at the woman’s name badge and adds, “Louise.”

Louise smiles. “Looking to book a room, sir?”

“Er, no, I…” he trails off, clears his throat. “I was hoping to speak to someone about a woman that stayed here, some four weeks or so ago, by the name of Karen Richards.”

The smile slips off Louise’s face, and her eyes narrow. “Are you with the police or something?”

Dominic swallows and nods, briefly flashing the ID badge they all carry for such occasions. Louise nods and bites her lip, and Dominic forces himself to look away from the flash of bright white teeth pulling on soft pink skin as a violent surge of hunger flares up in his gut.

“She’s the woman that disappeared, isn’t she?” Louise asks, and Dominic’s eyes dart back up to find her looking back at him with a furrowed brow. “I had police calling up about her already. Told them everything I knew.”

Dominic gives her a slightly strained smile. “I would be grateful if you could just repeat what you told them one more time, Louise. It would really help the investigation.”

Louise gives him a long look, but eventually nods and says, “Yeah, sure. Whatever helps. So she’s still missing, is she?”

“Not exactly,” Dominic says, looking at her pointedly, and she blanches.

“Oh my god, she’s…?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. Her body was found about a week ago,” Dominic says.

“Murdered?” Louise asks, and he nods gravely. Louise averts her eyes, a deep frown line appearing between her brows. “That’s… awful,” she says quietly, and Dominic’s eyes narrow. Something about her demeanour doesn’t sit right with him at all.

“Louise?” he asks, and her head whips back up again to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Please, anything you can tell us that could help us shed some light on what happened would be immensely helpful.”

Louise nods again. “Of course, Mr…”

“Rook,” says Dominic.

“Mr Rook,” Louise repeats, giving him a thin smile. “Mrs Richards and her husband came here for a week’s holiday just before Christmas, checking in on the…” she trails off, opens the guest register in front of her and leafs back through until she finds what she is looking for, “seventeenth of December. Both stayed for a few days, before Mr Richards suddenly checked out early evening on the twentieth.” She looks back up at Dominic, index finger pointing at the entry in the guest book.

Dominic nods. “And she didn’t leave with him?”

“No,” Louise says. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, I wasn’t working that day, but from what I heard, he got a phone call from work asking him to deal with some emergency, and they had a big row about him putting his work first, so he ended up leaving and she stayed behind. But like I said, I wasn’t here, so don’t quote me on any of that,” she finishes, shrugging.

“Thank you, Louise,” Dominic says, as out of the corner of his eye he sees Mike furiously taking notes on a small notepad. Focusing back on Louise, he asks, “So, what happened next?”

“Mrs Richards stayed until late evening the same day, and then seemed to have had a change of heart, and checked out as well.”

Dominic frowns. “What time was that?”

Louise’s eyes roam across the guest register for a moment, then come back up to meet his. “Eleven thirty, sir.”

“Can I see the entry?” Dominic asks, and she shrugs and turns the guest register around so that he can read it. His eyes wander across the page until he sees a hastily scribbled entry right at the bottom of the page. He studies it for a moment, aware of Mike leaning in and reading over his shoulder, before he looks back up at Louise, pointing at the entry. “The person who signed this off – L.B.?”

Louise clears her throat, and her eyes widen fractionally for just a moment. “That’s… me, sir. Louise Barker.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “I thought you said you didn’t work that day?”

For the second time in less than five minutes, he sees Louise’s face drain of all colour. “I…”

Dominic gives her an imploring look. “It is very important that you tell me the truth, Louise,” he says. “This is a murder investigation.”

Louise nods jerkily. “Yes, I… I realise that. I…” she trails off again, takes a deep breath, then says, “I signed it for someone else, the next day. Because it was so late, they forgot to sign it off, so… I did it for them.”

Dominic nods, even as, inexplicably, his chest tightens, and his voice sounds slightly strained when he asks, “What’s your colleague’s name, Louise?”

She looks straight into his eyes and says, “Hal Yorke. The assistant manager. He’s not at work today.”

 _I know,_ Dominic thinks. _That’s why I’m here today._

Then the full weight of her words sinks in, and he feels a lead weight dropping into his stomach. His chest tightens further to the point where he can’t breathe, and he reaches out and grips the edge of the reception desk until his knuckles turn white.

“Sir?” Mike says next to him. Of course he will not have missed the significance of that name.

Dominic turns towards him, a small, tight-lipped smile on his face, and says, “Make a note of that, will you, Mike?” Mike nods and scribbles something down on his notepad, and Dominic looks back towards Louise and adds, “Thank you, Louise, that’s… very helpful.”

Louise, however, gives him an unreadable look and says, “You don’t think that… Hal…?”

“We’re not thinking anything at the moment, Louise,” Dominic says with a grim smile. “We’re merely gathering facts.”

She swallows, nods. “Sure, of course.”

Dominic forces a deep breath into his constricted lungs. “Is there… anything else you can tell us?” he asks in a detached, almost robotic voice. “Something this… Hal… told you, or anything else about that night or the following morning?”

Louise bites her lip again, and Dominic clenches his jaw and averts his eyes. “He slept in the hotel that night,” she says.

Dominic’s eyes dart back up to her, brow creasing. “He did?”

Louise nods. “Yeah. Said that he finished really late that night, what with the late night check-out and everything, and so he crashed in one of the empty rooms.”

Dominic swallows compulsively. “I see.”

“And yet he didn’t have time to fill in the register?” Mike speaks up, and Dominic whirls around to him with wide eyes. Mike meets his gaze and shrugs. “It’s true, isn’t it, sir?”

“Yes,” Dominic chokes out. “Yes, good thinking, Mike.” Turning back around to Louise, he finds her looking at him with a small frown.

“Yeah, I thought that too, actually,” she says slowly. “There was something about the way he was that morning that was kind of…” she pauses, shrugs, “I don’t know, off.”

“Off?” Dominic asks, even as his inner voice tells him to stop asking questions and leave _right now_.

“Yeah,” Louise says, nodding. “Like, suspicious? I don’t know.” She shrugs again. Then her forehead creases, and she adds, “You’re not going to tell him I said that, are you?”

“No, of course not,” says Dominic, looking straight into her eyes. “Although I do have to make you aware that you are making some very serious accusations here, Louise.”

She looks back at him in silence for a long moment, clearly thinking about what he said, before she nods and says, “I know. I… you’re right. Maybe I’ve been jumping to conclusions. It’s… it’s probably nothing to do with him at all.”

Dominic glances over at Mike, who nods and scribbles something else down on his notepad. “Thank you, Louise,” Dominic says again, briefly inclining his head at her. “You’ve been a great help.”

“Uh huh,” Louise says, giving him an uncertain look. “I really think you should speak to Hal, though. But like I said, he won’t be back at work until Thursday.”

Dominic nods. “Thank you,” he says, inclining his head again, before he turns around and, with a quick look at Mike, makes his way towards the exit. His hand is reaching for the door handle when he hears Louise speak up again behind him.

“Mr Rook?”

He turns around, gives her an apprehensive look. “Yes, Louise?”

Louise looks at him with wide eyes for a long moment, then clears her throat and says, “There is… something else.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow as he slowly walks back towards the reception desk again. His gaze drops to the desk when he sees her placing a newspaper down in front of him. He quickly scans the headlines, then looks back up at Louise, a confused look on his face.

“Here,” she says, and his gaze follows her finger pointing at the picture of a young man. _Student, 21, brutally murdered in parents’ home,_ he reads, and his frown deepens as he looks back up at Louise.

“I don’t understand.”

Louise looks straight back at him, a deadly serious expression on her face. “Hal knew him,” she says. “I saw them together, here at the hotel.” Dominic looks back down at the picture of the handsome young man, an anxious flutter in his stomach. “I just… thought you should know,” Louise adds, shrugging, as she grabs the newspaper off the desk and drops it out of sight.

Dominic finds himself nodding as if on autopilot. “Yes, thank you, Louise.”

“Dominic?” a familiar voice calls then, and Dominic’s head snaps up in the direction of the dining room, where Natasha is standing and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Tasha,” he chokes out, vaguely aware of Louise looking back and forth between them with a confused frown on her face.

“You know each other?” she asks, but doesn’t receive an answer from either of them as Natasha takes a careful step towards him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, big eyes roaming across his grey suit.

Dominic raises his eyebrows at her. “Work,” he says, and she snorts.

“Yeah, I can see that. I… didn’t realise you’re back at work.”

“Since yesterday,” he says, nodding.

Natasha’s face darkens. “Are you sure you’re… fully recovered?” she asks cautiously.

Dominic throws a quick sideways glance at Mike, then gives Natasha a meaningful look and says, “Recovered enough.”

She regards him carefully for a moment, then nods and says, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he says quickly. “Now, we… really should get going. Nice seeing you, Tasha.” He gives her a ghost of a smile, then turns and walks towards the exit, not stopping this time until he finds himself next to the charcoal grey Audi across the road, and he quickly slips into the driver’s seat. He stares out of the windscreen for a long moment, unseeing, the face of the young man in the blurry newspaper picture burned into his retinas.

“Sir?” Mike pipes up next to him, and Dominic starts and whirls around to find the other man sitting in the passenger seat, giving him a concerned look. “Are you all right, sir? Are you feeling sick?”

Dominic quickly shakes his head. “No, Mike, I’m all right. I… think perhaps I should pay that young man’s family a visit.”

Mike nods. “I agree, sir.”

Dominic swallows. “Why don’t you… head back to the Archive though, Mike? Write up those notes you’ve been taking?”

Mike’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “Oh no, don’t worry about me. I’ll have plenty of time to write these up later. I’m more than happy to come with you and assist you, sir.”

Dominic sighs deeply and gives Mike a small smile. “Right,” he grinds out. “Thank you, Mike, that’s very… thoughtful of you.”

“That’s all right, sir,” Mike says, a smile spreading on his own lips. “This is all rather exciting, isn’t it? Like one of those crime dramas on TV.”

“Yes,” Dominic chokes out, then turns back around and starts the car.

***

“You know that guy?” Louise asks, giving Natasha a disbelieving look.

Natasha sighs and forces her eyes away from the door that Dominic just disappeared through, turning and looking at Louise instead. “Yeah, he’s a… friend of mine.”

Louise’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t realise you’re friends with a cop.”

Natasha frowns. “Is that what he told you… yeah, I guess it makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” Louise asks, and Natasha quickly shakes her head.

“Nothing, never mind.” Then her brow furrows, and she adds, “What did he want, anyway?” Louise quickly averts her eyes, and Natasha’s frown deepens. “Lou?”

“He was asking about Hal,” Louise blurts out.

Natasha’s eyes widen. “He was?”

“Yeah,” Louise says, nodding.

“What about Hal?” Natasha prompts, fighting back a sudden bout of dizziness.

“Just…” Louise trails off, gives her a concerned look. “Are you okay? You look like death.”

Natasha gives her a quick smile and a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about Hal?”

“Just… some stuff,” Louise says, averting her eyes again. “I told him about that guy from the paper.”

Natasha’s eyes grow almost impossibly wide, a lead weight dropping into her stomach. “You did _what_?”

Louise frowns at her. “I thought it might be relevant. I mean, if anyone can find out the truth about the whole thing, it’d be the cops, right?”

“Yeah,” Natasha says, nodding faintly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She pauses, fishes in her pocket for her phone, then looks back up at Louise and adds, “Please excuse me, I’ve got to make a phone call,” before all but running off to the locker room.

***

A couple of phone calls to the Archive and a long fifteen minute drive later, Dominic’s rented car pulls up outside of a nondescript, suburban property with a large, well trimmed front lawn and perfectly groomed rose bushes. Dominic thinks he can count on one hand the number of breaths he has taken in the last fifteen minutes, the human’s proximity in the too small space making his hunger flare into a white hot rage inside his gut. Add to that the incessant vibration of his phone in his pocket almost throughout the entire drive, and his nerves are pretty much lying blank.

Switching off the engine, Dominic finally pulls the phone out of his pocket, seeing nine missed calls and two messages from Natasha, saying _**Pick up your phone!**_ and _**Call me when you see this!**_

Dominic sighs and shakes his head. What can possibly be so important that she needs to speak to him right now? Didn’t she see that he was at work?

With a sideways glance at Mike, Dominic quickly stores the phone away in his pocket again, his eyes wandering up the winding cobblestone path to the front door of the house, and a queasy feeling settles into his stomach.

“You all right, sir?” Mike asks, and Dominic’s nostrils flare at the question he has been asked so many times these last couple of days.

Taking a deep breath, he musters a small smile and says, “Yes, Mike, I’m okay. Let’s go.”

They make their way along the cobblestone path, and Dominic rings the doorbell. It only takes a few seconds before the door opens and a petite woman in her late forties or early fifties stands before them, giving them a quizzical look.

“Can I help you?” she asks, eyes flicking back and forth between Dominic and Mike, who is standing a couple of steps behind him.

“Mrs Cooper?” Dominic asks, and the woman nods.

“Yes,” she says, then sighs deeply and says, “This is about Jamie, isn’t it?” Dominic nods, and Mrs Cooper’s face darkens. “Have you still not done enough _investigating_? I thought it was pretty clear what happened, and since it’s now been all over the papers as well, I didn’t think there was a doubt left in anyone’s mind of what my poor boy has been through. Can’t you let his family mourn in peace?”

“I’m… very sorry, Mrs Cooper,” Dominic says carefully. “There is a… new lead that we need to follow up on. It won’t take very long.” He gives her a small, disarming smile, and she sighs and steps back from the doorstep.

“All right then, come in,” she says, and Dominic and Mike step through into the hallway and follow her into a large, airy living room. “Please, take a seat,” she says, indicating a cream-coloured leather sofa against one wall. Dominic takes a seat, quickly followed by Mike, and Mrs Cooper sits down on a smaller two-seater across from them. “So, what is this new lead you’re talking about?”

Dominic clears his throat, painfully aware of his colleague sitting next to him, notepad in hand. “Mrs Cooper, did your son… did he ever bring friends home with him?” he asks.

Mrs Cooper lets out a sharp laugh. “Of course he did, he was twenty-one, for crying out loud. He had lots of people round.”

Dominic nods. “And did you ever… meet any of them?” he continues.

Mrs Cooper frowns. “Some of them,” she says. “Certainly his longer term friends, from school and college, I’ve met them plenty.”

“What about… newer friends?” Dominic asks carefully.

Mrs Cooper looks down to the floor for a moment, a flash of embarrassment crossing her features. “Well, he… sometimes brought young men home with him.” She looks up, meets Dominic’s eyes dead-on. “Jamie was gay,” she says, staring at him as if expecting some kind of a reaction.

Dominic calmly returns her look, nods and asks, “So he brought his dates home with him?”

Mrs Cooper narrows her eyes at him for a moment, then nods and says, “Yes. But he wouldn’t… they… they would usually go around the side of the house and… straight down the garden to the annexe. What he did down there was his own thing, we – my husband and I – didn’t really get involved. So I didn’t usually meet them.”

Dominic swallows down the quickly growing lump in his throat and asks, “Usually? So you did meet some?”

“Well, yes, one or two,” Mrs Cooper replies with a shrug. “Are you telling me that one of them…?”

“There is that possibility,” Dominic says quietly, then takes a deep breath against growing resistance and asks, “Did you ever meet, or did he ever mention, anyone called Hal?”

Mrs Cooper looks deep in thought for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, not that I can remember.”

“Are you sure?” Dominic asks, breathing a little bit easier.

Mrs Cooper nods. “Positive. I’ve never heard that name.”

“Thank you, Mrs Cooper,” Dominic says, mustering a small smile and getting to his feet.

He is just turning around to Mike, who is storing his notepad away in his pocket, when Mrs Cooper asks, “So is that all? Or do you need to have a look at the… crime scene?”

Dominic whirls around to her, about to say that, no, it’s all right, they have all the information they need, but what comes out of his mouth instead is, “Yes, thank you, that would be very useful.”

“Of course,” she says, throwing a quick glance through the window and out into the garden. “I thought you would.”

Dominic follows her gaze, his eyes falling on the small annexe at the back of the garden for a moment, before looks back at her.

Mrs Cooper nods at him with a broken little smile. “Follow me,” she says, and starts walking through the living room and kitchen to the door leading into the garden. Halfway down the garden path, she turns around to them, a haunted look on her face. “If you don’t mind,” she says. “The door is unlocked. I… I haven’t been back in there since…”

“Of course,” Dominic says instantly, and she gives him a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” she says, then turns around and makes her way back towards the house.

Dominic gives Mike a small nod, and they make their way down the garden path towards the annexe. Dominic is the first to the door, being overcome by a momentary feeling of panic about whether being invited into the main house also extends to the annexe, and he carefully pushes the door open and inches one foot forward.

“Fucking hell,” a male voice sounds from inside, and Dominic freezes in place, his eyes darting inside to find a young, blond man sitting on the bed, an iPad resting on his lap. Dominic’s eyes widen momentarily before he catches himself and averts his gaze, allowing his eyes to wander around the rest of the room instead. “Listen, man, forensics have been and gone,” the ghost of Jamie Cooper continues in a long-suffering drone. “There’s fuck-all more to see here.” Dominic watches out of the corner of his eye as he drops the iPad back on the bed beside him as inconspicuously as possible and locks the screen.

“Sir? Anything the matter?” Mike asks from behind him, and Dominic turns his head to look at him.

“Nothing, Mike,” he assures him with a small smile. “Just thought I’d heard something, but it was nothing.”

“Are you seeing ghosts again, sir?” Mike asks, raising his eyebrows at him, and Dominic chokes out a hollow laugh.

“Yes,” he says, turning to look back into the room. “I guess I must have been.” Inside, he can hear the ghost snicker, and he has to work hard to keep the smile off his face. He inches his foot forward slightly more, doesn’t feel any resistance, and steps across the threshold, coming to a halt in the middle of the room and taking in his surroundings.

“I doubt we’ll find anything useful in here, sir,” Mike says, coming in behind him. “It looks like forensics have already been.”

“Told ya,” Jamie’s ghost pipes up, and Dominic narrowly resists the urge to look up at him, instead leaning down to inspect a pile of what looks like medical text books on the floor next to the sofa.

“Mmmh,” he says, nodding. “Perhaps you’re right, Mike. But it’s still worth having a quick look around.”

“If you say so, sir,” Mike says, a doubtful note in his voice.

Dominic nods absentmindedly, letting his eyes wander across the rest of the room, looking at the brightly coloured paintings on the walls, the shelves full of more medical text books, as well as some classical literature, the clothes haphazardly strewn across the floor, the cup of half-drunk coffee on the desk next to the folded-down laptop, and eventually landing on the faint blood stains that colour the floor just in front of the bed, the smell of the old blood long since covered up by layer upon layer of industrial-strength cleaning agents.

He briefly lets his eyes roam across the unmade bed, careful not to linger on the figure sitting on it, before he turns back around to Mike and says, “You’re right. There’s nothing more to see here. We should make our way back to the Archive.” Mike nods, and Dominic follows him back out of the annexe, pulling the door shut behind him. They make it halfway down the garden path when Dominic stops and loudly says, “Oh, goodness, I seem to have dropped my car keys in there. You go ahead, I’ll catch you up in a minute.”

Mike turns around to him with a small frown. “I can help you look, s—”

“No, really, Mike,” Dominic jumps in, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “You go and wait in the house. I’ll only be a minute.”

“Of course, sir,” Mike says, nodding, before he continues his way down the garden path towards the house. 

Dominic quickly steps back inside and quietly pulls the door shut behind him. Then he turns around, lifts his eyes to the ghost and says, “Hello, Jamie.”

Jamie huffs. “Yeah, I thought you were kinda… different. What are you, exactly?”

Dominic takes a deep breath and says, “I’m a vampire.” Jamie’s expression hardens, and he quickly adds, “But I don’t mean you any harm. I’m only here to find out what happened to you.”

“I was killed,” Jamie says, narrowing his eyes at him. “I thought that was obvious.”

Dominic lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yes,” he agrees. “But I was hoping to find out a little bit more about… how exactly it happened… and… and who—”

“Are you actually with the police?” Jamie cuts in, and Dominic sighs again.

“No. I’m with… the Department of Domestic Defence. We’re… we deal with… supernatural affairs.”

Jamie lets out a hoarse laugh. “Supernatural affairs, huh? Do your coworkers know you’re a… bloodsucker?”

Dominic shakes his head. “No, they don’t. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you before.” He throws a quick look over his shoulder. “And that brings me right back to the point. We don’t have much time. My colleague is going to come looking for me soon, so, please, if you can tell me anything about who did this—”

“His name was Hal,” Jamie says, and the bottom drops out of Dominic’s stomach. He finds himself unable to move, staring, wide-eyed, at Jamie, whose forehead creases as he watches him.

“Hal?” Dominic croaks, and Jamie nods.

“Yeah. Never got his last name, I’m afraid, even though we sort of dated on and off for, like, a month.”

Dominic’s throat closes up, and he forces a sharp breath in through his nose. “You did?” he asks, his voice sounding strangled and high-pitched, and he quickly clears his throat.

Jamie nods. “Yeah. I even… you know. Let him…” he trails off, gives Dominic a significant look.

“Let him?” Dominic asks.

Jamie keeps looking at him in that same way for a moment, then sighs, rolls his eyes, and says, “Let him drink my blood. Gosh, what kind of vampire are you?”

“The non-blood-drinking kind,” Dominic says seriously, clenching his jaw as he looks back at the man that… that Hal…

No. No point following that train of thought right now. He is on the job.

“Seriously?” Jamie says, lifting his eyebrows at him. “That’s a thing?”

Dominic swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, Jamie. It’s a thing. Now… can you tell me anything more about you and… a-and this Hal?”

“You don’t know him, then?” Jamie asks, forehead creasing. “I thought maybe all you bloodsuckers know each other. I mean surely there’s not that many of you, right?”

“There are enough,” Dominic says slowly, with an emphatic nod. “Now, please, if you could—”

“Yeah, all right, keep your pants on,” Jamie says with a loud, dramatic sigh. “I met him at this bar that I worked at… holiday job, you know? We… kinda clicked instantly, so I brought him back here, and…” he trails off, a bright grin settling on his face. “Yeah, the sex was great. Not that you really wanna hear about that.”

“Certainly not,” Dominic chokes out, averting his eyes, a sharp pain spreading across his chest that he tries very hard not to show on his face.

“Sorry,” Jamie says, and Dominic sees him throwing him a small, sheepish smile out of the corner of his eye. “So like I said, we then kinda dated on and off for about a month. It was weird, because one day, he would be all over me, and then the next, or even sometimes later on the same day, he’d act like he’d never met me before, saying we couldn’t see each other again…” he drifts off, and Dominic looks up to see him frowning, with a faraway look in his eyes. “He kept saying that he was seeing someone else, but then next time we talked, he would deny it and say that I must have misheard him, but I know what I heard. I remember one time I ran into him at his workplace – he works at this hotel, the Barry Grand—”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Dominic snaps before he can stop himself, fighting back the sting of tears that are springing into his eyes.

“Sorry, I thought you said you didn’t know him,” Jamie points out.

Dominic gives him a sharp look. “I don’t,” he says quickly. “But I am _aware_ of him, on a professional level. We…” he breaks off, clears his throat, “we keep tabs on… all the… supernaturals living in the area.”

Jamie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does that include yourself?”

“In a way,” Dominic says, blinking. Then he gives Jamie a tiny, forced smile and says, “I apologise for interrupting you. You were saying?”

“I was saying that I ran into him one morning – I think he’d just finished a night shift or something – and basically he was acting like a completely different person. Like… I don’t know. I didn’t know what to make of it, it was… weird.”

“Yes. That… that does sound weird,” Dominic says, nodding. Then he furrows his brow at Jamie and asks, “So, the day you died…?”

“He came here… oh, must’ve been about ten, maybe ten-thirty in the morning. I was just getting dressed. I don’t… didn’t… usually lock the door, ‘cause I thought no one really knows this place is back here anyway, and they do have to go all the way across my parents’ garden to get here.” He shrugs. “So Hal… he just bursts right in, this… wild look in his eyes. And I don’t mean just, you know, the black eyes. I’ve seen those.” He gives Dominic a slightly nervous glance, then continues, “But no, these were his own eyes, but… feral.”

Dominic sees a flash of a memory before his own mind’s eye, of Hal looking at him in that way, before he sank his teeth into his neck and drank and drank…

“So he walks right up to me, crowds into my personal space, without saying a single word,” Jamie continues, startling Dominic out of his thoughts. “And I’m like, ‘What’s going on, mate? What are you doing?’ But he doesn’t listen. He just… he just moves in and…” he trails off, takes a deep, shaky breath, “he tears right into my neck. Not… carefully, like he used to do it, but… viciously, like an animal, and I try to break free, but he’s so much stronger than me… so much stronger… and… and I feel myself growing weaker, dizzy, and I struggle to hold myself up, so I slump against him, and it’s… it’s almost like he’s _repulsed_ by me, and he grabs my head, hard, between both of his hands and…” he breaks off, makes an unmistakable gesture with his hands that makes Dominic want to heave, and only now does he realise that he has been watching Jamie with impossibly wide eyes and bated breath, hands balled into tight fists at his sides and fingernails digging painfully into his palms. Jamie looks right at him then, takes another slow, ragged breath, and says, “I never knew why he did it. He… he never said a single word. I… saw him… drop my body, and he cleaned himself up and strode right out the door like there was nothing to it at all. I called out to him, but he never even as much as looked back at me. And… well, that was that.”

“And you’ve been here ever since?” Dominic asks, his voice hoarse and breaking, but he doesn’t care anymore.

Jamie nods, obviously too wrapped up in his own emotions to take any note of Dominic’s. “Yeah. Been sitting here reading stuff on my iPad, mostly. It’s fucking boring, I tell you. Been out on the town a couple of times, but it still freaks me out that no one else can see me. Well, except for… other ghosts and… people like you, obviously.”

“You’ve met other ghosts?” Dominic asks.

“Yeah,” Jamie replies, shrugging. He doesn’t elaborate, and Dominic doesn’t press him for any more detail as at that moment, he can hear footsteps on the garden path.

“I need to go,” he says quietly, and starts turning towards the door when he stops in his tracks, faces Jamie again and adds, “Thank you, Jamie. You’ve… been a tremendous help. And… and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Then he opens the door and steps through into the garden, where Mike is standing and giving him a scrutinising look. “Is everything all right, sir? Have you found your keys?”

“Yes,” Dominic says with a big, fake smile, pulling the car keys out of his pocket and holding them up to Mike. “Here they are. Must have accidentally kicked them under the bed, took me a good while to find them.”

“It did indeed,” Mike agrees. “I was starting to worry something had happened to you.”

“No, no,” Dominic says nonchalantly, even as he feels his dead heart break into a thousand tiny pieces, “nothing happened. Now, let’s head back to the Archive, shall we? Make a start on that report.”

***

Dominic sits at his desk, blindly reaching for what must be his fifth or sixth cup of tea, dry, burning, red-rimmed eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. He takes a sip of lukewarm tea, feels a surge of nausea as it makes its way into his stomach, sets the mug back down on the desk, and types,

_In conclusion, there is currently insufficient evidence to suggest that #SJ031 has been involved in this incident in any way that goes beyond his professional role as the hotel’s assistant manager._

He quickly presses ‘Save’ and leans back in his chair, rubbing his sore eyes with the pads of his middle finger and thumb.

“Busy day, sir?” a voice drifts over from further along the room, and Dominic quickly looks up to see Arthur walking towards him, a curious expression on his face.

“Yes, Arthur,” he says, mustering a tiny smile. “A very busy day.”

“You really shouldn’t overdo it on your first few days back, you know, sir,” Arthur says seriously, coming to a halt in front of his desk. “It’s already well past your finishing time. I think you should go home and… take it easy, sir.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Dominic replies. “But I’d really rather not go home quite yet.”

Arthur gives him a long, scrutinising look, and Dominic looks back down at his computer screen to not give away too much of the state he is finding himself in. “If you’re sure, sir,” Arthur says eventually, then adds, “Can I get you anything? Another cup of tea? Something… else?”

Dominic looks back up again with a slightly exasperated smile. “No, thank you, Arthur. I think if I drink any more tea I’m going to be sick.”

“Very well, sir,” Arthur says with a small sigh.

“I wouldn’t mind going for a drink though,” Dominic continues, and at Arthur’s vaguely alarmed expression, he blushes and adds, “The… alcoholic kind of drink.”

Arthur looks at him for a long moment, before he nods and says, “That sounds like a plan, sir.”

***

Hal is pacing up and down the living room, eyes darting nervously between the clock on the wall showing half past eleven, the large bay window at the front of the house and his phone lying discarded on the coffee table.

“Hal, for God’s sake, sit down,” Alex sighs, giving him an imploring look from where she is sitting on the sofa, a magazine open in her lap.

Hal swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No. There’s… there’s something wrong. He should’ve been here by now, he—”

“Sent a message saying he was going to be late,” Alex points out. “For all we know, he’s out with his work mates having a drink or something. What’s wrong with that?”

Hal stops pacing for a moment to narrow his eyes at his friend. “The fact that he doesn’t have any ‘work mates’? He hasn’t even _been_ at work for the last four months, and may I remind you also that all his ‘work mates’ are _humans_?”

Alex looks back at him for a moment, before she shakes her head. “No, Hal. I’m sure he hasn’t… he... he said he was doing all right this morning, didn’t he?”

“But that was this morning, Alex,” Hal points out, eyes flicking back again to the window, only to see a perfectly quiet, empty road outside.

“He also promised he’d call me if he ever felt like… you know,” Alex continues.

Hal swallows and looks down. “You don’t know what it’s like, Alex. When it comes over you, it… you don’t… think straight anymore, it’s like… there’s this force inside of you that is making you do things and you can’t control it—”

“Alex is righ’,” Tom pipes up, and Hal whirls around to face the werewolf sitting in the armchair, whittling a piece of wood into some kind of figurine.

Hal’s face darkens. “Do you have to do that in here?” he barks, and Tom sighs.

“I though’ we were talkin’ ‘bout Dominic?” he asks exasperatedly.

Hal exhales sharply through his nostrils. “We were. I was just saying—”

“Well don’t,” Tom retorts. “’S none of yer business wha’ I do in me own home.”

“It’s my home, too,” Hal points out.

“Guys, for god’s sake, tone it down,” Alex jumps in. Then she turns back towards Hal and says, “Sit down, Hal. He’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

But Hal shakes his head, starts pacing again. “He’s not fine. Something… something is wrong, I can feel it.”

As soon as he says the words, he can feel two pairs of eyes homing in on him.

“You what, mate?” Tom asks.

Hal stops, clears his throat, gives his friends an apprehensive look. “I can… feel that he is… troubled, distressed in some way.”

“How?” Tom shoots back immediately.

Hal looks down at his own feet as he quietly says, “Through the… bond we both share. I can… get a vague sense of… of whether he is happy or sad or… nothing too elaborate. Just. I know something is wrong, all right?” he finishes, looking back up at his friends, who both look back at him with equally shocked expressions on their faces.

“I had no idea you had, like, a…. telepathic bond,” Alex says, and Hal quickly shakes his head.

“It’s not like that. Like I said, it’s… all very vague. All I can tell is—”

His words are cut short by the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by the porch door, and Hal whirls around to see Dominic standing in the doorway, swaying slightly in place, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone, and an unfocused, glassy expression in his big blue eyes.

“Dominic,” he says, taking a step towards him, but as soon as he does, Dominic’s face hardens, and he takes a step backwards, away from Hal.

“You don’t talk to me,” he snarls, words slurring slightly as he speaks.

“You drunk, mate?” Tom asks, alarmed, and Hal turns around to see his friend frowning deeply at Dominic’s still swaying form, the wooden figurine lying forgotten in his lap.

Dominic huffs. “The good kind of drunk.”

“I do hope that means alcohol,” Alex pipes up.

Dominic lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry, _I_ didn’t kill anyone.” He throws a narrow-eyed glare full of some kind of meaning towards Hal, who frowns back at him.

“I don’t—”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Dominic cuts in. “You don’t talk to me.” Then, turning back towards Tom and Alex, he adds, “If you need me, I’ll be in the guest room.”

Hal’s eyes widen as Dominic turns around and slowly, clumsily makes his way up the stairs. He is about to follow when he feels a strong hand gripping his arm, and he turns around to see Tom giving him a brisk head shake.

“Leave him be, mate,” Tom says, eyes briefly flicking up the stairs, where Hal can now hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being removed from the wardrobe, and heavy footsteps further along the corridor towards the empty guest room. “Whatever it is that’s wrong, ya can still talk ‘bout it tomorrow, when he’s sobered up, like.”

Hal looks back at his friend’s earnest expression for a moment, before he shakes his head, pulls free of his grip and all but runs up the stairs.

“Hal!” Tom and Alex’s voices both call after him, but he doesn’t care. He needs to know what is going on.

Dominic whirls around to him as he makes it to the landing, a pile of grey suits slung over one arm, the other hand stretched out to open the door to the guest room.

“Dominic, please,” Hal says, giving him a pleading look and slowly, carefully inching closer. “Tell me what’s going on, at least.”

Dominic stares back at him in silence for a long moment, and Hal thinks he can see the glimmer of unshed tears springing into his blue eyes. Dominic quickly brings a hand up to wipe them away, and even despite his obvious inebriation, the expression on his face goes as stone cold as his voice when he says, “Jamie says hi.”

Then he disappears into the guest room, slamming the door shut behind him, and Hal is left, rooted to the spot at the top of the stairs, staring at the closed door in complete and utter shock.


	22. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween guys! Have a treat! :)

I've got two secrets  
But I only told you one  
I'm not supposed to show you

\- Interpol, “Success”

 

Alex switches off the TV and DVD player and jumps up off the sofa, stretching needlessly as she turns towards the kitchen – and starts when she sees the lights on through the window. Frowning slightly, she slowly moves towards the swinging double doors and pushes them open. She stops in the doorway when her eyes fall on Dominic sitting at the table, clad in his grey suit minus the jacket or tie, hair tousled, unshaven, hands clasping an enormous glass of orange juice sitting on the table in front of him.

He looks up as he hears her enter, and there are deep, dark circles under red-rimmed eyes. He looks at her for a moment with a vacant expression on his face, then drops his gaze back to the glass in front of him.

“Hey,” Alex says into the heavy silence, still hovering by the doorway. “Didn’t hear you come downstairs.”

“You had the TV on,” Dominic says huskily, not meeting her eyes again.

Alex sighs and slowly makes her way over to the table. “Listen, Dominic, I don’t know what exactly happened yesterday, but if you need someone to—”

“I don’t,” he cuts in, clenching his jaw, before he lifts the glass up to his lips and takes a small, careful gulp, grimacing as the tangy liquid makes its way down his throat. His shirt sleeve drops down a couple of inches as he raises his arm, and Alex’s eyes are drawn two small relatively fresh-looking marks in his right wrist. Her eyes widen momentarily, before she averts her eyes and decides that it’s none of her business. 

She drops down in the chair opposite him, giving him a careful look. “Right. Well, I’m here if you change your mind,” she says. He only hums in response, and silence falls for a long moment. Alex’s eyes wander towards the clock on the wall, and she frowns. “What you are you doing up anyway?” she asks. “It’s only just gone six.”

“I wanted to get ready and get out before Hal…” he drifts off, his voice breaking at the last word, and he shakes his head and finally looks up at her, a small, broken smile on his face. “I should get going.”

“You look like you could do with a bit more of that first,” Alex replies, indicating the orange juice, and Dominic chuckles dryly.

“I don’t think it’s actually doing any good. If anything, it’s probably mostly psychological.”

Alex shrugs. “That’s still better than nothing, right?” He gives her another small smile, this one looking slightly more genuine than the first, and she adds, “You did look pretty plastered when you came back last night. Does it… still affect you in the same way?”

Dominic bites his lips, obviously thinking about his answer for a moment, before he says, “Not quite as much as it would’ve done if I was still alive... it’s like my tolerance has gone up. But yes, in answer to your question, it does still affect me.”

“I can get you some… paracetamol or something if you want,” Alex suggests, and Dominic quickly shakes his head, then grimaces and closes his eyes.

“No, thank you, Alex,” he replies. “I know for a fact that that doesn’t work on us. It’s like… the hangover is still there, but none of the cures work anymore.”

“That sucks,” Alex says, and Dominic huffs out a quiet laugh.

“A lot of things do when you become a vampire,” he says, then his eyes fly open, big and mortified, and he adds, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Alex lets out a deep laugh. “Sure you didn’t.”

“I…” he looks at her helplessly for a moment, before his own lips curve up in a smile, and he shakes his head. “I didn’t.”

“Mmmh,” Alex hums, nodding her head towards his glass again. “Have your orange juice, Blondie.”

Dominic gives her a sheepish smile and lifts the glass back to his lips, taking another measured sip. He swallows, grimaces, says, “This really isn’t doing anything.”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe just… pretend it does. Nothing much else you can do.”

Dominic smiles and nods, taking another sip. His face contorts a little bit less this time, as if he is slowly getting used to the taste of it. Alex’s eyes wander back to the marks in his wrist, bright pink in colour now as the skin has closed over the wounds, and she suppresses a shudder. 

“Dominic,” she says into the silence. “What ha—”

“Your ghost friend,” he cuts in, giving her a scrutinising look.

Alex frowns. “Yeah? What about him?” 

Dominic nods, apparently satisfied with something about her answer, and her frown deepens. “What’s his name?” he asks carefully, still with that unreadable expression on his face.

“Dominic, what the… what’s this got to do with anything?” she asks. 

Dominic takes a deep breath. “It’s not… Jamie, is it?”

Alex looks at him for a long moment, watches his face darken ever so slightly when he says the name. “Yeah,” she says eventually, giving him a small shrug. “It is. I still don’t understand—”

“Has he told you how he died?” Dominic presses on, persistently ignoring her question.

She lets out a small, frustrated sigh and says, “He was killed by a vampire.” Then something dawns on her, and she adds, “This is something to do with your work, isn’t it? You’ve been sent to investigate his death?”

“Did he say anything else?” Dominic asks back, and Alex rolls her eyes.

“Am I on mute or something?” she snaps. “Can you please answer my question first?”

Dominic starts, as if it only now occurs to him that he has been completely ignoring her. “I’m sorry, Alex,” he says, glancing down at the table top. “I was just… Yes, you could say that. But it goes further than that.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “I don’t understand.”

Dominic’s eyes snap up to meet hers, big and blue and full of some indescribable pain, and he says, “Ask him who killed him sometime.”

Alex’s own eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. “No. You don’t mean…”

Dominic’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down a few times, and he nods. “I do.”

Alex finds herself unable to look away from him, from the complete, unshakable sincerity in his gaze, from the pain that now suddenly has a name, because Jamie did tell her some things about the vampire that killed him, and if Dominic knows what she knows…

“Oh my god, Dominic, I’m so sorry.”

He drops his eyes back down to his half-empty glass, gives her a small nod. “I… couldn’t believe it myself, but everything he said just made way too much sense to not be the truth. And one of Hal’s work colleagues even _saw_ them together.” He lets out a mirthless laugh. “I wouldn’t have expected Hal to be that careless.”

A sharp pang courses through Alex when she remembers another death, another body, and she briefly wonders where the woman’s ghost had been. She must have passed over during the night, she concludes, when Hal was still asleep in a pool of blood next to her mutilated body. She can’t quite suppress the shudder this time, grateful when she looks up and sees Dominic still staring into his glass.

“I never thought… I just assumed it was some other vampire,” she says quietly, and Dominic huffs.

“There aren’t that many vampires in this part of the country anymore, Alex. Not after the whole fiasco with the Old Ones.”

“Well I didn’t know that, did I?” she asks, perhaps more sharply than she had intended, and she takes a deep breath and adds, “I’m sorry.”

He still keeps his eyes fixed on the orange juice in front of him. “Apology accepted.”

“You should talk to him,” she says then, and finally his eyes flick up. 

“No.”

“Dominic, you can’t just go on ignoring each other for the rest of all eternity. I’m sure Hal—”

“What?” Dominic snarls. “Had a _reason_ for what he was doing?”

“Yes!” Alex retorts. “I mean, shit, he loves you more than anything. Believe me, I know that, because I’m the one he turned down to be with you.”

Dominic’s eyes grow huge as he looks back at her, and he swallows compulsively. “I…”

“Yeah, all right, don’t worry about that now. What I’m trying to say is, I also saw him at the hospital, and when you were bleeding out over there with a fucking knife sticking out of your stomach.” She gestures over towards the floor in front of the counter. He briefly follows her gaze, then looks back at her, and she takes a deep breath and says, “I guess my point is, he loves you, Dominic. He… he wouldn’t do that kind of thing to you without a very good reason.”

Dominic huffs, a small, pained smile settling on his lips. “Yes. You could assume that it was all about the blood or some nonsense like that, but then why did he sleep with him, Alex?”

She holds his gaze for a long moment. “I don’t know,” she says eventually. “I honestly don’t know.”

He looks back at her for a moment longer, then puts on a stoic little smile and gets to his feet. He walks the few steps to the counter, picks something up, then turns back towards Alex, holds the item in question out towards her and asks, “Do you know how to tie a tie?”

Alex sighs, giving him a meaningful look. “Dominic—”

“Do you?” he prompts.

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Would you mind?” he asks, sounding more than a little embarrassed, and she smiles. 

“Of course not, Blondie. Give it here.” She comes to stand in front of him and quickly fastens the grey tie around his neck.

He gives her a grateful smile and reaches for the jacket slung over the back of his chair. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, watching him shrugging into the suit jacket. He is turning towards the door when she adds, “Do you really think you’re… you know, okay to go to work?”

He turns back towards her, a crease in his brow. “Why shouldn’t I be?” Alex gives him an incredulous look, but he just lifts his eyebrows at her. “It’s the best place for me right now, Alex. It’ll keep my mind on… other things.”

Alex scoffs. “I thought you were investigating Jamie’s death?”

The expression on his face changes instantaneously, and his voice is quiet and unexpectedly thoughtful when he says, “You should talk to him, Alex. He… could do with a friend.”

Without waiting for her to reply, he leaves the room into the hallway, and she stares after him until she hears the front door close behind him. Then, giving herself a little shake, she pulls her phone from her pocket and opens a new message. Hand shaking ever so slightly, she types,

**Hey, you up to much today?**

The reply comes almost instantly.

_**Is that a fucking trick question? What would I be doing?**_

Despite everything, Alex can’t help the small laugh that escapes her.

**I don’t know, handsome. You could be sneaking into rides at the Pleasure Park for all I know.**

Jamie’s reply takes a little bit longer to arrive this time, but eventually a new message pops up on her screen, and she reads,

_**Can’t imagine that would be much fun if I can’t actually feel anything.**_

Alex rolls her eyes and lets out a small sigh.

**Wow, you’re a ray of sunshine today.**

She hesitates for a long moment over the send button, her thoughts going back to Dominic’s last words to her, and she adds,

**Wanna meet up?**

This time, Jamie’s reply is there almost as soon as she hits ‘Send’.

_**Yeah, sure. Where do you want to meet?**_

Alex smiles at the screen, about to reply when a familiar voice makes her look up.

“Who are you texting?” Hal asks, walking over to the kettle and flicking it on. Then he turns around to her and gives her an expectant look, and her eyes widen.

“No one,” she says quickly, and then, “Dominic.” 

She inwardly kicks herself at the flash of pain that passes Hal’s eyes when she says his name. There are dark circles under them, identical to the ones she saw on Dominic earlier. He clears his throat, averts his eyes, and says, “Oh yes?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

Hal looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Where is he?”

Alex swallows down a non-existent lump in her throat and says, “He’s gone to work early.”

Hal nods, then turns around to make himself a cup of tea, and he wordlessly sinks into the seat that Dominic vacated mere minutes ago. Alex can’t help but let her eyes wander over him, and a cold chill travels down her spine when she thinks about what Dominic told her. That her friend, who sits in front of her now, tired and broken, is the same one who…

“What happened, Hal?” The question has left her lips before she even fully realises what she has been saying.

His head snaps up towards her, and he frowns. “He hasn’t told you?”

Alex stares back at him for a long moment, torn between telling him the truth and denying it, in order to hear it from his perspective. In the end, she settles for, “He said you killed someone.”

Hal’s eyes flick down to the table, and he nods. “Yes,” he almost whispers.

“Someone other than that woman?” she continues, and once again his eyes dart up to her for a fraction of a second before looking back down.

“Yes,” he breathes again. 

“Does he know about the woman?” she presses on, knowing she is being harsh, but not sure how else to cope with this situation.

“No,” Hal sighs, shaking his head, and he gives her a pleading look. “Please don’t tell him, Alex. Not… another thing. This… what happened… it’s bad enough. Let me try and talk to him about it and… explain it all.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” Alex snaps, watching his eyes widen. “Maybe you could start with explaining it to me. I thought we had an agreement that you weren’t going to kill any more people, Hal? I still can’t quite believe I actually helped you that time, but for you to just… turn around and… and do it again? What the hell were you thinking?”

She hadn’t realised that she had jumped up to her feet until she notices Hal staring up at her, blank panic in his tired eyes. “I wasn’t,” he simply says, in a small broken voice. “I’m so sorry, Alex, I wasn’t thinking at all, it was… him… he did it, I couldn’t—”

“We’ve talked about this before, Hal,” Alex says, narrowing her eyes at him. “What _he_ does is still _your_ responsibility.”

“But I wasn’t even aware he was doing it!” Hal exclaims. “I tried to reason with him, I really tried. I told him to leave him alone, but he didn’t listen, Alex. He… he didn’t listen.”

Tears are standing in Hal’s eyes now, and Alex feels a strange mix of anger and pity as she looks back at him. She quickly shakes her head and says, “Sorry, I gotta be somewhere.” She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she finds herself standing in a park.

***

Letting out a quiet groan, Dominic lifts both his hands up to massage his pounding temples, trying to focus his burning eyes on the email on the laptop screen in front of him.

_Dominic,_

_Thank you for sending me your interim report. It is encouraging to know that there has been no supporting evidence so far to prove the Type 2’s involvement in the incident, although I must say that for obvious reasons I don’t entirely trust your judgement on that matter. However, Mr O’Brien assured me that another staff member accompanied you during your investigation, which does somewhat put my mind at rest._

Dominic pauses and lets out a frustrated breath through flared nostrils. He has always thought that Adrian had been placed here purely to keep an eye on him, but to have his suspicions so blatantly confirmed still stings all the same. He rubs his tired eyes, swallows down the bile rising into his throat and continues reading,

_Speaking of which, I have also been informed that you have been investigating an additional incident that may be linked to this Type 2. It goes without saying, of course, that I expect a full report on this case as well as the first one._

_Lastly, and I didn’t expect to ever have to say this to you, if there are any signs whatsoever that you may have been covering up or otherwise assisting this monster in his crimes, I will not only find a replacement for you, but there will be criminal proceedings against you. Tread carefully, Dominic._

_Kind regards,_

_Alistair Frith_

Dominic groans as the pounding in his head returns with a vengeance, and he lifts one hand back to his temples, looking up from the screen when he hears hesitant footsteps coming closer.

“Rough night, sir?” Arthur says, sounding almost a little too upbeat while giving him a very odd look indeed.

Dominic frowns. “You know it was, Arthur, you were there,” he says, reaching for his tea mug only to find that it is empty. He sighs and sits back in his chair, looking at the older man, who is still regarding him with that unreadable expression. “Anything I can help you with?” he asks.

Arthur clears his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “No, sir, I was just…” he trails off, takes a few steps closer to the desk, leans in and lowers his voice almost to a whisper when he continues, “I was just dropping by to see how you were today, sir. After the way you got last night, I wasn’t even sure you’d be coming to work at all today.”

Dominic’s frown deepens. “The way I got…?”

Arthur averts his eyes. “Well, pardon me for saying so, sir, but you got yourself into quite a state.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow, and he searches through his memories for last night. He feels a cold shiver running through him when he realises that he doesn’t remember very much at all. “Please do elaborate, Arthur,” he says, looking back at the other man.

Arthur frowns at him. “You… don’t remember, sir?”

“I didn’t say that,” Dominic says quickly, but Arthur nonetheless gives him a knowing look.

Clearing his throat loudly, he says, “Let’s just say that you may have had a glass or two too much last night, sir, and it may have led you to… shall we say… _overshare_.”

Dominic’s eyes grow wide, and he feels his cheeks burning. “I… I’m…”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Arthur says quietly. “I won’t be telling anyone.”

Dominic lets out a sharp breath of relief and feels some of the tension fall away from him, until another voice speaks up from further along the room. 

“Won’t be telling what, Arthur?” Adrian asks, walking towards the desk with quick steps.

Dominic clears his throat and says, “That I didn’t leave work until gone eight yesterday. I suppose I’m a little out of practice with all this report writing, it took me a lot longer than I thought.” He gives Adrian a small, forced smile.

The other man returns his smile, nods, and says, “Understandable, sir. And then Mike also told me about that other case you went to investigate yesterday. Shame it turned out to be a red herring, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed,” Dominic chokes out. “A real shame.”

Adrian gives him a long look, then nods again and says, “Regardless, I’ve ordered the case file from the local police department. It should be with us by tomorrow. Might be worth having a look through, don’t you think?”

Dominic swallows. “Yes, of course,” he says, giving him another small smile. “Good thinking, Adrian.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adrian says, and turns to leave.

“Just make sure that the file is delivered straight to my desk, please, Adrian,” Dominic says loudly, and the other man stops and turns around, giving him a curt nod.

“Of course, sir. No offence, but I think everyone else is having their plates full enough as it is.”

Dominic nods. “Thanks, Adrian. Oh, also,” he adds a moment later, “have you found suitable accommodation for the children yet?”

“You mean the Type 2s, sir?” Adrian asks, and Dominic can feel both his and Arthur’s eyes on him. He nods.

“Yes, Adrian, I mean the Type 2s.”

Adrian shrugs. “I’m working on it.”

“Please do make it a priority,” Dominic says, and a small frown flits across Adrian’s face for a split second. 

“Sir, I think there are probably more important things—”

“You heard what I said, Adrian,” Dominic says sharply, giving him an intense look, and he feels an unexpected flare of hunger in his stomach that he quickly forces down. 

Adrian’s eyes narrow for a moment, but he nods all the same. “Of course, sir. I’ll make it a priority.”

Dominic watches Adrian’s retreating back as he makes his way across the room, then he turns back to Arthur, who, he realises, has also been watching Adrian leave.

“Be careful, sir,” Arthur says under his breath, inadvertently echoing Alistair’s earlier warning to him, albeit with a very different meaning.

Dominic gives him a small, tense smile and says, “Thank you, Arthur. I will.”

Arthur gives him another quick nod, then turns and follows Adrian through the grey steel door.

Dominic is left staring into the large, empty room, his heart giving a single pathetic thump in his chest that takes him off guard and makes him flinch. 

It’s almost as if it is trying to remind him that it is still there. It is still beating, however slowly. And the dull ache he is feeling inside is still very, very real.

***

Alex is perching on the back of an empty park bench, eyes following the ducks swimming languidly across the pond in front of her while a million and one thoughts are racing through her head. How did she end up in this complete and utter mess? How will she still be able to look Hal in the eyes, knowing what he has done, what he _keeps on doing,_ from what she has seen? How can she ever trust his word again if it is so easy for him to go against his promises?

Her thoughts wander to Dominic, and her chest aches as she remembers the look in his eyes, a look of utter betrayal, pain and heartbreak, and still he asked her to go and comfort the very person that put it there in the first place. Except, it wasn’t really Jamie’s fault, what happened, was it? He was a victim in all this. He got caught up in something he didn’t understand, and he paid with his life. Just like she did.

“Hey, mind if I join you under that black cloud you’re sitting under, or is it personal use only?”

Alex’s head snaps up and she stares for a moment as her eyes fall on Jamie, standing in front of her with a wry smile on his lips. Her eyes flick down to the crook of his neck, and she has a sudden image of Hal, sinking his teeth into that skin, flashing through her mind. She suppresses a shudder, gives Jamie a small eye roll and a smile and says, “Go ahead, I’m more than happy to share.” 

He perches next to her on the bench, following her eyes back out onto the pond. “I used to come here with my dad when I was a kid,” he says quietly. “To feed the ducks.”

“That’s nice,” Alex replies, then looks up sharply as Jamie snorts. “What?” she asks.

He gives her a long, calculating look, then shrugs and looks away again. “I think you’re lucky,” he says, in that same quiet, thoughtful tone as before.

Alex’s eyes narrow. “Lucky how?”

Jamie bites his lip and hesitates for a moment before he says, “That you died here. Away from your family.”

A sharp pain courses through Alex’s body, which she knows is really only in her head because she is dead and her body is lying in ground somewhere in Scotland. But her mind makes her think that it is anyway, and it feels plenty real to her, so she flinches. “What… makes you say that?” she asks, unable to completely keep the shock out of her voice. 

Jamie gives her another long look. “You might think you’d want to be around them all the time, but believe me, it’s actually torture,” he says, looking down at his hands lying in his lap. “To see my little sister sitting on the swing in the garden and crying, silently so mum and dad don’t hear her, because she doesn’t want to upset them. Or the look on my mum’s face every time she tends to the rose bushes, and her eyes stray to look through the window into my room, to see the pain there as a constant reminder of how much worse all this is for them than me, because… I’m still here. But I can’t _tell_ them I am, can’t talk to them at all, and to think that if I _could_ , they would probably run away screaming…” He drifts off, shakes his head.

Alex thinks about what he said, remembers the looks on her own dad and brother’s faces when she went up to see them, and she can’t help but see the point he is trying to make. Maybe she really is better off here, away from it all. She gives a slow, reluctant nod. “Yeah, maybe,” she concedes.

“Definitely,” Jamie presses on. “And hey, look at you and your fancy living arrangements, sharing a big arse house with a werewolf and a vampire.” He gives her a bright grin.

“Two vampires,” she corrects before she can stop herself, then quickly clears her throat and adds, “And it’s really not all that fancy, you know.”

Jamie, however, is looking at her with a curious expression on his face. “Two?”

Alex nods. “Yeah. Didn’t I mention that before? I’m sure I must’ve.”

Jamie shrugs and looks back out to the pond. “Maybe you did.” Then a dark look passes his face, and he continues, “How can you stand it? Being around them all the time, after what happened to you?”

“It wasn’t either of them that did it,” she says, shrugging. “They’re…” Her throat closes up, and she clears it loudly. “They’re all right, really,” she finishes, but the words taste bitter on her tongue when she thinks of Hal.

Jamie, clearly feeling her hesitation, turns back around to her, forehead creased in thought. He regards her silently for a moment longer before he says, “Maybe I could move in with y—”

“No,” Alex all but shouts, before he even has a chance to finish, and Jamie’s eyes widen.

“All right, it was just an idea,” he says placatingly, and Alex gives him a small, sheepish smile.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… two of my housemates are currently having a bit of a…” 

“Domestic?” Jamie suggests, and she nods.

“Yeah. One hell of a domestic. You wouldn’t wanna be caught in the m—” She stops herself when she realises how close what she was about to say already is to the truth, and she gives a little helpless shrug. “It’s… not a good time,” she finishes lamely.

Jamie gives her an unconvinced frown, but nods all the same. “Is that why you’re sitting here with that black cloud hanging over your head?” he he asks with a small smile.

“No, I was just worried about getting a tan,” she says, but when he just continues to sit and look at her in that way, she eventually sighs and nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

Silence falls for a long moment, in which both of them look back out at the swimming ducks again. A little girl and her mother are standing by the edge of the pond, throwing small pieces of bread out onto the water’s surface, and a large flock of ducks has collected around them. 

“A vampire came to see me yesterday,” Jamie speaks up again after a while, and Alex’s eyes grow wide as they dart up to him. “At home. To… ask me questions about how I died.” 

He looks at her with a furrowed brow, and Alex has an almost overwhelming urge to say, _Really? Tell me all about it!_ But something in her, some part of her is just so very tired of lying, and she gives him a small, bittersweet smile, nods and says, “I know.”

Jamie’s eyes grow very wide. “You… do?”

Alex nods again. “Yeah, I do. I… Dominic… that’s the… the vampire’s name. He hasn’t been a vampire for very long, you know. Anyway, he… he told me about it.”

“He’s one of your housemates,” Jamie says, eyes growing even wider, and Alex nods again, looking down.

“Yeah, he is. It’s him and…” Her throat closes up. She can’t say. She can’t possible admit to…

“And?” Jamie prompts.

She takes a deep breath, looks directly into Jamies eyes. “And… Hal,” she says slowly, and watches Jamie’s face crumble into a look of utter disbelief.

“What?” he asks hoarsely, inching away from her on the bench.

“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” she says.

Jamie shakes his head. “No,” he whispers.

Alex swallows. “Yes. I’m… I’m really—”

“Did you know?” Jamie suddenly yells, jumping up from the bench and standing in front of her. “Did you know it was him all along? Did he tell you?”

“No!” Alex shoots back, frowning deeply. “God, Jamie. Do you really think I could’ve… urgh, no. He… doesn’t even know that I know.”

Jamie scoffs. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No,” Alex says, shaking her head. “I just… I don’t know what to—”

“Yeah, neither do I,” Jamie cuts in, slowly backing away from her. “I thought you were my friend, Alex. And then it turns out you’re playing house with the very fucking psycho of a vampire that killed me?” He pauses, and his eyes widen. “Hold on… it wasn’t… was it… was it you? The… someone else? Is that why he had to get his blood elsewhere, because you’re already d—”

“No!” Alex snaps. “Shit, Jamie, no, it wasn’t… I’m…”

“Yeah, never mind,” Jamie says, shrugging roughly as he backs further away from her. “I might see you around, Alex,” he adds, turning around. “But don’t hold your breath.” Then he starts walking down the path away from the pond, and Alex can do nothing but watch him go.

“Jamie, wait,” she calls, but he doesn’t turn around, and the next moment, he has disappeared into thin air. “Shit, Millar, why can’t you ever keep your stupid big mouth shut?” she shouts out across the pond, while a few feet away, a small girl keeps feeding the ducks, completely undisturbed.

***

Dominic sighs deeply as he stands in front of the black wooden door, no alcohol nor blood in his system this time to take the edge off the sharp pain rushing through his chest. He knows deep down that once he sets foot in the house, he won’t be able to escape Hal, won’t be able to slip away as easily as he did last night, and if he is completely honest with himself, there is a part of him that _wants_ to confront him. To know, once and for all, what it was that made him… do what he did. A shiver runs down his spine as the young man’s face flashes in his mind’s eye, making goosebumps erupt on his skin.

Taking a deep, soothing breath, Dominic turns the key in the lock and lets himself inside. He pushes the inner porch door open, and the sound of a TV advert drifts over from the living room. Dominic’s eyes dart across to the sofa, where they immediately fall on Hal and Tom sitting next to each other, facing away from him. At the sound of the door falling shut behind him, Hal’s head snaps around, and his eyes widen when he sees Dominic. 

“Dominic,” he calls, with a quiet urgency that he sees reflected in his big hazel eyes, those beautiful eyes that he knows so very well. A large lump rises into his throat, and he swallows.

“No, Hal,” he croaks out, shaking his head as he walks in the direction of the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Hal jumping up off the sofa and crossing the room towards him. 

He is already most of the way up when Hal comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and calls, “Dominic, please.”

“What, Hal?” he asks, whirling around to him, and another sharp jab runs through him when he sees the utterly heartbroken expression on Hal’s face. 

“Please, let me explain,” Hal says quietly. “It’s not what you think—”

Dominic scoffs loudly. “You fucked someone behind my back, drank their blood and then brutally killed them, but it’s _not what I think_?”

Hal winces at his words, but doesn’t look away, his eyes pleading as he calmly says, “No, it’s not. Please, Dominic, let me explain.”

Dominic looks back at him in silence for a long moment, before he slowly feels his resolve crumble. Something about the complete sincerity in Hal’s eyes makes him slowly incline his head in a nod, before he opens his mouth and says, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Hal says, relief clearly written on his face.

Dominic nods again and turns back around to climb the last couple of steps until he reaches the landing, and he walks along the corridor towards the guest room.

“Dominic?” Hal asks, following along behind him.

“Talk,” Dominic says with a sigh, not turning around as he pushes the door open and walks over the the wardrobe, shrugging out of his suit jacket and hanging it up on a free hanger. “I’m listening.”

“I…” Hal’s voice drifts over from the open doorway, and Dominic can’t help but steal a glance in the mirror on the wardrobe door, a familiar jolt rushing through him as he looks straight through himself towards the empty doorway.

“Yes?” he prompts, as his hands come up to loosen his tie.

“I didn’t know, Dominic,” Hal all but whispers behind him. “I swear I had no idea what he was doing until it was already too late. I tried to make him see reason, to call it off, but he… he went behind my back as much as yours, and…”

“He,” Dominic says quietly, looking down at his feet. “So it wasn’t you?”

“No, Dominic, of course it wasn’t me!” Hal croaks out, his voice breaking. “I would _never_ do that to you, do you really think—”

“I don’t know, Hal!” Dominic shoots back, finally turning around to face him, and angry tears are springing into his eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore. For a day and a half solid now, all I have been able to see in my mind’s eye has been you and that… that _boy_.”

“He isn’t that much younger than I was when I died,” Hal throws in, and Dominic’s eyes narrow.

“For someone who says he wasn’t involved at all, you do seem to know an awful lot.”

Hal huffs out a humourless laugh. “His age was in the newspaper article, Dominic. But yes, since we’re being honest with each other, I have met him.”

“At the hotel,” Dominic says, remembering what Jamie said to him about Hal acting ‘like a different person’. 

Hal nods. “Yes. And we talked briefly. That’s all, Dominic, I swear. I didn’t… do anything else.”

“But _he_ did,” Dominic says coldly, looking away. Fresh tears are springing into his eyes, making them sting. 

Hal sighs deeply. “Yes. He did.”

Dominic looks back up at him, taking a shaky breath and blinking the tears away. “Then let me talk to him.”

Hal’s eyes widen momentarily, and he shakes his head and says, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Dominic asks, narrowing his eyes at him, and Hal sighs.

“It doesn’t… work like that,” he says, looking down at his feet briefly before meeting Dominic’s eyes again. “And even if it did, I wouldn’t leave you alone with him.”

Dominic huffs. “I can look after myself.”

“No, Dominic,” Hal says firmly. “You can’t. You’re—”

“What?” Dominic shoots back. “Just a _baby_? That’s what you called me the other day, wasn’t it?” He chokes in a ragged breath. “Is that why you did it, Hal? You’d turned me into a monster, and while I was sitting in that cellar contemplating suicide because it would be infinitely better than this horrible new existence, you were so desperate to get laid that you snatched the first available person off the street and—”

“Dominic, please, I didn’t do this!” Hal says urgently. “It was… it was him, I—”

“It was still you, Hal,” Dominic cuts in. “It’s all you. You’re both… you.”

Hal shakes his head. “No…”

“Yes, Hal,” Dominic says, averting his eyes as a single tear rolls down his right cheek. He quickly brings up a hand to wipe it away. “Because let me tell you one thing. Whether it was him or you, it still hurts just the same.”

“Dominic,” Hal says quietly, taking a careful step towards him.

Dominic shakes his head. “No, Hal. I don’t think there is really anything you can say or do right now that will make this better.”

“But it didn’t mean anything, Dominic, I swear,” Hal says, eyes pleading as takes another step towards him.

Dominic huffs. “No, of course it didn’t.”

“I promise you,” Hal continues, holding out a placating hand to him. “It was nothing at all. Just…”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “Just what, Hal?”

Hal drops his gaze to the floor, and Dominic can see his Adam’s apple rising and falling before he whispers, “Payment.”

Dominic’s chest constricts. “What do you mean, payment?”

Hal swallows again, eyes still firmly glued to the floor. “He... Jamie… had something that he wanted, and he… gave him something... in return.”

Dominic’s eyes widen as he has a sudden unbidden flashback to his flat in Cardiff, the very first time Hal came to see him. 

_“Have you ever done this before?”_

_“Do you want to?”_

“Was that all it ever was with me as well?” he asks hoarsely. “Payment?”

Hal only hesitates for a fraction of a second before he shakes his head and says, “No, of course not.”

But Dominic feels the hesitation like a punch to the chest, and an iron first closes around his heart. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I get it now.” His voice is ice-cold, even as fresh tears start rolling down both of his cheeks, blurring his vision to a point where Hal is nothing but a blob of colour in front of him. “At the end of the day, you’re still just a fucking whore, aren’t you, Henry?”

A stone cold silence falls over the room, and for the longest moment, neither of them so much as breathes. Then Hal lets out a sound somewhere between a choke and a hiccup, and Dominic blinks away his tears to see him looking back at him in utter astonishment.

“What did you say?” Hal rasps, his voice barely obeying him.

Dominic’s eyes widen, and he takes a small step towards Hal. “I…”

But he never gets a chance to continue, as Hal backs away from him, expression morphing from shock into something more closely resembling panic, before he whirls around and all but runs from the room. 

“Hal!” Dominic calls after him, crossing the room towards the hallway, and he just manages to make out Hal disappearing into his – their – bedroom, the door falling shut noisily behind him. Dominic makes it down the hallway in a few rushed steps, and he quickly reaches for the door handle, but hesitates at the last moment and lifts his hand to knock instead. “Hal?” he asks. There is no answer, just a shuffling sound from the other side, and Dominic waits a short moment before he knocks again. “Hal, can I… come in?” Still there is no answer, and, taking a deep breath, Dominic finally reaches out and opens the door.

Hal is sitting on the sofa at the back of the room, curled up into a ball with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring unseeingly at the wooden floorboards in front of him. Dominic takes a few hesitant steps towards him.

“Hal, I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Hal looks up then, and Dominic’s eyes widen. There is a look in Hal’s eyes that he has never seen there before, something utterly raw and unguarded. He looks at Dominic in silence for a moment, before his forehead creases, and he says, “You... you’re Dominic.”

It is nothing other than a statement of fact, but it nonetheless makes a lump rise into Dominic’s throat, and he swallows thickly. “Yes, of course I’m Dominic,” he says, frowning. “What’s going on, Hal?”

Hal just keeps looking at him in that way, somewhere between terror and wonder. “I’m… not sure,” he says slowly. “Why are you here?”

“I live here, Hal?” Dominic says, feeling his chest constrict, and he forces a deep breath into his lungs against growing resistance. Hal doesn’t respond, still just keeps looking at him. “Hal?” Dominic asks again. “Tell me what’s going on, please.”

“Yes, that’s what you call me isn’t it. Hal,” Hal says, a small smile forming on his lips. “Strange name, but I think I like it.”

Dominic’s heart gives a nervous flutter as he finds himself more and more unsettled by Hal’s behaviour. What is going on? Why is he talking like this? How can he get him out of this?

“Hal, tell me what to do,” he chokes out, eyes roaming across Hal’s form, still curled up on the sofa. “What do I do? You’re... you’re completely out of it.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Is it because of what I said? Because I’m sorry, all right, I shouldn’t have said what I did, it was hurtful and cruel, and I didn’t mean it. I was just so... so angry.”

Hal gives him a small, resigned smile. “Yeah, that’s what they always say.”

Dominic frowns. “Hal? What are you talking about? Who are they?” Hal once again doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at him, and the smile falls away from his face, making way for an apprehensive look instead. “Hal?” he asks again. “Why aren’t you…” he drifts off as a slow realisation dawns in his mind, and he hesitantly asks, “Henry?”

“Yes?” Hal says immediately, and a small, surprised sound escapes Dominic’s throat.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, eyes widening as he looks at Hal, who stares back at him with big, expectant eyes. “I… I’m sorry,” Dominic says quietly as he drops down on the sofa next to Hal. He gives Hal a small smile and reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder, not expecting Hal to flinch back and almost jump to the other end of the sofa. Dominic withdraws his hand as if burned, wide eyes fixed on Hal, who looks back at him with pure fear in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” Dominic says again, with as much calm as he can muster. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you like that again.”

Hal’s brow furrows. “No?”

Dominic shakes his head and smiles even as there is a sharp ache in his chest. “No. I promise.”

Hal regards him with an uncertain look in his eyes for a long time before, eventually, he unfolds himself and shuffles back towards the middle of the sofa. Dominic, hesitantly, reaches out a hand again, lightly touches Hal’s shoulder, and he still feels Hal’s body tense under his fingertips, but this time he doesn’t jump away. Dominic withdraws his hand, but Hal’s eyes flick up to him and he shakes his head. 

“Do you want me to continue?” Dominic asks. Hal nods, and he reaches out once more and slowly, carefully, wraps both of his arms around Hal until he holds him in a loose hug, and to his surprise, it is Hal himself who moves in closer, seeking comfort and warmth, and he just sits and holds him for a long, silent moment.

Eventually, he feels Hal’s body give a tiny little twitch, and then Hal’s hands come up to his chest as he pushes himself slightly away from him, out of the embrace. Dominic’s eyes meet Hal’s, finding him looking back at him with an expression that is confused and slightly bewildered, but definitely _Hal._

“Dominic?” he asks. “What’s going on?”

Dominic gives him a small smile and says, “I think that’s something that you will have to tell me.”

And he watches Hal’s face flick from confusion to dawning realisation to shocked disbelief in a fraction of a second. He swallows and looks down at his hands that have started doing the nervous finger tapping thing Dominic hasn’t seen him do since… he can’t even remember. Then he nods and says, “Okay.” 

Dominic mirrors his nod, giving him an expectant look. “Okay.”

Hal takes a deep breath, eyes darting up to meet his, and he says, “I guess you’ve just met Number Three.” 


	23. Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooo much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! 
> 
> I'm sorry about the long wait. I've had a bit of a crazy week.

I see hundreds of faces  
Staring back at me  
An armory of human shields  
To protect me from the truth  
The truth as I never told it  
For I’m a liar like you  
Nothing quite like a transplant  
To erase the past

\- Hell Is For Heroes, “My Protector”

 

He sits with his knees drawn up to his chest, back pushing into the armrest of the leather-covered sofa, trying to get as far away from the man as possible, yet never taking his eyes off him, off the face he remembers from vague half-memories and dreams. There is a voice somewhere at the back of his mind that tells him it’s all right, that he can relax, that the man doesn’t mean him any harm, but he doesn’t trust that voice. Has never trusted it, because it’s always been there, always whispering these things to him, and most of the time they turned out to be lies, making him let his guard down, allowing himself to be used.

But not now. Not anymore. He knows better now.

Or so he thinks, until the man says, “I’m sorry.” The tone of his voice is so calm and sincere, and Henry is surprised by the sense of familiarity it carries, by the way it seems to instantly make him feel at ease. “You don’t need to be afraid,” the man, Dominic, continues. He vaguely remembers the other ones talking to him, calling him by that name. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you like that again.”

Henry feels a rush of warmth coursing through him at the words, even though his body still feels colder than it ever has done. So cold. So… dead. He looks up and into the man’s big blue eyes, so full of sincerity. He wants to believe him, wants it more than anything, but he should really know better by now. He should have learned that none of them can be trusted, because they lie. They always lie.

And yet, this is not just anyone, is it? This is the man the other ones call Dominic, and he knows that _they_ trust him. So maybe he can trust him too.

“No?” he asks, an uncertain frown on his face.

“No,” the man says, “I promise.” He shakes his head and smiles at him, and still Henry can’t see any signs of him being anything less than genuine. Could he actually be telling the truth?

 _Yes, he is,_ that voice speaks up inside of him again. _Trust him. Go to him._

And slowly, hesitantly, with a furrowed brow, Henry lowers his feet to the floor and shuffles back to his previous spot in the middle of the sofa. He starts slightly as the man reaches out a hand to him, unsure of what to expect, but he clenches his jaw and stays put, resists the urge to flinch away again. The man’s hand is as cold as he is, but it nonetheless makes a soothing warmth spread from his shoulder down into his chest, and he feels a strange, unfamiliar need to get more of that touch, to surround himself with that warmth.

But the hand pulls away, and Henry feels the loss of contact acutely, feels a sudden chill run through him, deep inside his bones, as his vision starts to blur and he feels like he is slowly being separated from his body. He quickly looks up at the man, shakes his head, tries to make him understand…

“Do you want me to continue?” the man asks, and Henry gives him a quick nod. Only a short moment later, the man reaches out again, and he finds himself surrounded by gentle arms, held in a careful embrace, so different to the way they would usually touch him. There is no warmth radiating from the man’s body, but Henry feels it spreading inside him all the same, soothing, grounding, and he moves in closer, allows his own arms to circle around the man’s back, hesitantly, in case he is overstepping the line. 

But nothing bad happens, no angry reprimand, no hand flying out to strike him, and he finds himself relaxing into the other’s embrace, feeling calmer and safer than he ever has in his life, and slowly, he feels himself drift away, and he feels the other one’s presence in his mind growing stronger… stronger… and he lets go.

Hal opens his eyes, an odd sense of calm and relaxation washing over him that he recognises as not entirely his own, with his head buried in Dominic’s chest and the feeling of Dominic’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

He frowns. Weren’t they having an argument? Wasn’t Dominic angry and shouting at him, accusing him of cheating, calling him names? 

How did they get here?

He brings his hands up to Dominic’s chest and quickly pushes himself away from him, giving him a quizzical look.

“Dominic?” he asks. “What’s going on?”

Dominic smiles at him, a small, careful, bittersweet smile, and says, “I think that’s something that you will have to tell me.”

Hal frowns at him for a moment, still feeling that alien sense of calm and safety deep inside him, a feeling he knows isn’t his but at the same time also isn’t something that would originate from the other one. 

And then it hits him, and he blanches. A rush of anxiety washes over him at the realisation of what – of _who –_ Dominic will have witnessed. He feels his fingers starting to tap against each other in a familiar pattern, and he looks down at his hands, watches their movement and lets it ground him. Without looking back up at Dominic, he nods briskly and says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Dominic replies, and out of the corner of his eye Hal can see him nodding. 

He slowly lifts his eyes up to meet Dominic’s, sees him looking back at him with big, expectant eyes, and he takes a deep breath and says, “I guess you’ve just met Number Three.” 

Dominic stares at him in silence for what seems like a small eternity, then he nods slowly. “So it seems.”

Hal swallows, lowers his gaze to his hands again. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Dominic asks, sounding confused, and Hal looks back up at him with a furrowed brow.

“For… for letting you see that. I… we… don’t normally allow that to… to happen.” His throat closes up, and he clears it loudly.

“That?” Dominic says, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “You mean Henry?”

Hal feels a strange jolt run through him at hearing the name, especially with Henry’s presence still so close to the surface. He quickly nods. “Yes.”

Dominic frowns. “So you’re... what? Holding him prisoner in there?”

Hal snorts and shakes his head. “No, Dominic, that’s not...” He drifts off, gathers his thoughts, then starts again. “It... wouldn’t be good for him to... be out,” he says carefully. “He... he wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand what, Hal?” Dominic asks, voice very quiet and pensive.

Hal swallows, looking down at his hands that have started to shake uncontrollably even as he still forces them to continue their rhythmic movement. The hunger is growing steadily inside of him. He will need to feed soon. 

“Hal?” Dominic prompts again, and his head snaps up. He notices that Dominic’s own eyes are fixed on his shaking hands, and he quickly clasps them together in his lap. 

“What we are now,” he says quietly.

Dominic lifts his eyes to meet his then, and he looks back at Hal almost blankly for the longest moment, until his eyes widen almost imperceptibly, his breath hitches and he says, “I see.” 

Hal nods. “Yes,” he says. “We’re not holding him prisoner. We’re protecting him.”

Dominic looks at him for a moment longer, before his eyes dart back down to Hal’s tightly clasped hands again.

“You need blood,” he says matter-of-factly. 

Hal swallows thickly. “Yes, I... since... since Jamie, I... I’ve been struggling to get by on one flask per day.”

There is a soft gasp coming from Dominic at his words, but he can’t bring himself to look up, to face him.

“The day you killed J—”

“He,” Hal throws in quickly. 

He can feel Dominic’s sharp gaze on him. “The day _he_ killed Jamie was the day we drove to Anglesey.”

Hal nods. “Yes. He... must have done it in the morning before we left, while I was out shopping and...” He drifts off, then huffs and adds, “That explains the petrol.”

“So when I had your blood that day,” Dominic continues, narrowing his eyes at him, “the reason it affected me so strongly was...”

Hal sighs and nods. “Yes. I’m so sorry, Dominic, I didn’t know.”

Dominic’s face darkens. “So you’re telling me you can’t remember anything he did?” he asks. “Anything at all?”

“No, I’ve already told you,” Hal says, frustration creeping into his voice, “I had no idea what he was doing.”

Dominic gives him an intense look. “But... how was he able to... you used to be aware of him inside your head. You used to talk to him, Hal! What’s... what’s changed?”

Hal is silent for a long moment, thinking about how best to put into words what has been happening inside his mind. He is aware of Dominic’s eyes on him, anxious, waiting, and he feels oddly exposed in a way that he is not familiar with, and that he doesn’t like in the slightest. He wonders briefly whether part of it is a remnant of Henry inside his head. 

_Go back to sleep,_ he sends a quiet message into the void. _It’s all right. You’re safe._

Then he lifts his eyes up to Dominic again and slowly says, “I think it’s my fault, Dominic. I... when you were in the hospital, I... tried very hard to... to rebuild the barrier that had become brittle and permeable over time. Especially after I came back from purgatory, it felt like... the barrier was almost completely gone. And I... I couldn’t take him being in my thoughts all the time, I wanted him gone, I...” he trails off, takes a deep breath. “So I built the barrier back up, made it as strong as I possibly could, to protect myself, and you, and... It seems that he may have found a... a back door. To take control of the body. But now, when he does... I’m not aware that he’s doing it.”

“Because of the barrier,” Dominic clarifies, and Hal nods. 

“It works both ways,” he says with a small, helpless shrug. “So now, it’s almost like it used to be, before everything became blurred and confused. There’s either me, or there’s... him.”

“Or there’s Henry,” Dominic adds with a significant look, and Hal’s breath sticks in his throat.

“Yes, but… as I said, Dominic, it’s better for him if he’s not… he should… I should… _we_ should make sure that he doesn’t come out again.”

Dominic gives him an odd look. “Is that ‘we’ as in you and me, or ‘we’ as in you and… him?”

Hal swallows and furrows his brow. “A bit of both?” he says quietly, making it sound almost like a question.

Dominic nods. “Because that’s the third or fourth time in this conversation that you used that word.”

“Is it?” Hal asks, his chest tightening inexplicably.

“Yes, it is, Hal,” Dominic says seriously. “And it’s making me think…” he trails off, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You said you built the barrier?” 

Hal nods. “Yes, but—“

“Can you tear it down?” Dominic asks then, and Hal’s eyes widen.

“What?” he asks incredulously, staring back at Dominic, who gives him a calm, serious look.

“You have built the barrier back up, Hal,” he repeats in a quiet voice that matches his expression. “So you should be able to break it down.”

Hal frowns and slowly shakes his head. “Why on Earth would I want to do that?”

“Hal,” Dominic says with a heavy sigh, blue eyes piercing into his own. “You said it yourself. By rebuilding it, you… basically made it possible for him to—” he clears his throat loudly, “—do what he did. And, well, I for one am not going to sit back and watch him go off with yet another guy... or maybe it’ll be a girl next time—”

“Dominic, no,” Hal cuts in, pleading eyes fixed on Dominic. “I won’t allow that to ever happen again, I…” he trails off as Dominic’s words fully sink in, and his heart gives an almighty thump in his chest as a hesitant smile flits across his face. “Are you saying that you’re… not leaving me?” he asks in a small voice, looking intently at Dominic, who holds his gaze for a long, silent moment.

“No, Hal,” he says eventually. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. But—” he stops abruptly as Hal breaks out in a wide, relieved smile. The corners of his own mouth twitch for a moment, before he clears his throat loudly and continues, “ _But_ I will need to speak to the other one, Hal. You will have to make it happen one way or another, because I’m not going to accept all this secrecy and deceit. If you want this – us – to work out, you – _all_ of you – will have to be completely open and honest with me from now on, you understand?”

Hal fights to keep a straight face as his lips keep trying curl into a smile. “Yes, I understand.”

“All right,” Dominic replies, giving him an intense look. “So… can you?”

“Can I break down the barrier?” Hal asks. Dominic nods, and he sighs and continues, “Yes, I suppose I probably can. Or… _we_ can. You seem to like it when I say that.” He looks at Dominic with a creased brow, and Dominic gives him a small smile in return.

“It’s not important what _I_ like, Hal. It just seems… the way you were talking about… about Henry earlier, it seemed like, perhaps, there is more than just… me… that the two of you can agree on.” 

Hal frowns and drops his eyes into his lap, where his hands have started shaking again. “That’s… you don’t really understand… he… he wasn’t…” He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back up at Dominic, who meets his eyes and patiently waits for him to continue. Hal takes a moment to gather his thoughts, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. “The way the other one first appeared,” he starts, and when he glances back at Dominic he realises that he has stopped breathing altogether and is absentmindedly nodding in a bid for him to continue. “When I was young,” he says, gaze once more falling into his lap, “You know what it was like, you… you were there. It… I wasn’t… able to… when those things happened to me, it was like I… split those experiences off from myself, and it felt like… like what they did didn’t really happen to me, like it was happening to someone else. I mean, I _know_ what happened, and I know, on a rational level, that it happened _to me_ , as in it happened to this body.” He briefly meets Dominic’s eyes, gesturing down at himself. “But I don’t actually remember any of it in detail.”

“I think I understand,” Dominic says quietly. “The ‘someone else’ – that was Henry?”

“Yes,” Hal says with a jerky nod. “But the thing is… there were still times when everything just became too much for me – and for Henry – to take, and then, suddenly, out of the blue, _he_ showed up. And he was everything I ever wished I could be, he was strong and brave and confident, like a… soldier, or a—”

“—knight,” Dominic finishes for him, and Hal’s eyes grow wide as they snap up to him.

“Yes,” he all but whispers. “How did you…?”

There is a sad smile on Dominic’s face when he replies, “You… told me. In purgatory. You said that you wanted to be a knight when you grew up. It just… suddenly came back to me.”

Hal stares at him for a long moment, a million different emotions warring inside of him at Dominic’s words. There is fear and wonder and shame and gratitude and guilt and love and it all mixes together until he has no idea what to feel anymore, and he just nods and says, “Yes. Like a knight.” His hands in his lap are shaking uncontrollably now, and Dominic reaches out and covers them with his own steadier ones. 

“So that’s what he was,” Dominic says quietly, thumbs caressing his clammy skin. “Your protector.”

Hal lets out a deep, shaky breath, gaze fixed on Dominic’s hands in his own. “That’s what he used to be,” he says. “That’s how he started. But over time… he got twisted and corrupted by what happened to us, and he… changed. It was almost unnoticeable at first, for me at least, but then I didn’t really understand back then what was going on. By the time we found ourselves on that battlefield and the body was dying, he had all but taken over completely, cruel and unfeeling and power-hungry as he was, and it was _his_ decision to—” he breaks off as his chest spasms and he lets out deep, ragged sigh. 

“—to turn you into a vampire,” Dominic once again finishes for him, and Hal gives him a jerky nod, his eyes still fixed on their joint hands. “I’m so sorry, Hal,” Dominic says then, and he frowns up at him.

“You’re sorry?”

Dominic meets his gaze with his big blue eyes filled with nothing but love, and he says, “I’m sorry for what happened to you. I wish I could… take some of that away from you, to make it easier.”

“You can’t,” Hal says quietly. Then he swallows thickly, averts his eyes and adds, “But perhaps it would be a good start not to call me… certain things, no matter _how_ angry you are at me.” 

He can feel Dominic’s hands twitch in his own as he tenses, then lets out a deep sigh and says, “I’m so sorry, Hal. I… should never have said that. It’s not… I don’t think you’re—”

“I know,” Hal says quickly, giving Dominic small, tense smile. “Thank you.”

Dominic smiles back at him for a moment, then his brow furrows, and he untangles one of his hands from Hal’s to wipe drops of sweat off his forehead. “You should feed,” he says matter-of-factly, and withdraws his hands. Hal feels a cold shiver running through him at the loss of contact, but before he gets a chance to say or do anything, Dominic has already stood up from the sofa. “I’ll… go,” he says. “I shouldn’t be here while you’re… you know.” His eyes flick over to the bedside table for a moment, where he knows Hal keeps his flasks. Then he turns and quickly crosses the room towards the door. 

“Dominic,” Hal calls as soon as he finds his voice again, when Dominic is already on the other side of the room. He turns back around to him, facing him with a crease in his brow. “Are you coming back?” Hal asks in a small, quiet voice, and by the way Dominic exhales sharply he can tell that he understood the full meaning of his question.

“Not tonight, Hal,” Dominic says, shaking his head. 

“But—”

“I’m sorry,” Dominic says. “But I… need a little more time. And… I need to speak to him. Until then, I think it’s better if I stay out of your way.”

Hal’s heart clenches painfully in his chest, but he nods all the same, says, “Of course.”

The tiniest of smiles flits across Dominic’s lips, and he says, “Good night, Hal,” before swiftly opening the door and making his way out of the room.

“Good night, Dominic,” Hal whispers under his breath, staring at the closed door for a long, silent moment. Then he gets up, opens the topmost drawer on his bedside table, and pulls out the little flask hidden there. His hands are shaking so badly that he barely manages to unscrew the cap without pouring the whole content of the small bottle all over himself. He does his very best to steady his hand as he brings the flask up to his lips and downs the contents in a few quick, hungry gulps. 

He lets his hand holding the flask drop back into his lap, licks the last stray drops of blood off his lips, and lets out a deep sigh. The amount of blood in the flask barely managed to take the edge off, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. How is he supposed to survive on _this_ for the rest of his life?

 _You’re not,_ a familiar voice pipes up inside his head, and he narrows his eyes.

Now _you’re talking,_ he says sharply, flaring his nostrils. _Where the fuck have you been the last few times I was trying to get hold of you?_

 _I don’t just answer to your beck and call, Hal,_ the other one drawls. 

Hal huffs. _Oh, so you just land me in this hell of a mess, and then you leave me to sort it out completely by myself? Is this how it works?_

 _I thought you_ wanted _me to get rid of Jamie?_ the other one asks, and Hal lets out a small, disbelieving laugh. 

_I wanted you to break it off with him, not…_ kill _him,_ he explains, even though he knows his plea is going to fall on deaf ears. Unsurprisingly, he feels the other one shrug.

 _He was a threat to us, I got rid of him,_ he says nonchalantly.

Hal shakes his head, letting out an exasperated breath. _You know what? Fuck off. I can’t take you being in my head right now. Or ever. Dominic might think that breaking down the barrier is a good idea, but personally I can’t think of anything worse than sharing my head with you on a permanent basis._

 _Oh, Hal, seriously, lighten up,_ the other one says. _What’s the damage? He’s still here, isn’t he?_

 _No thanks to you,_ Hal snaps. _Do something like that again, and he’s going to be gone for good._

There is a smug tone to the other one’s voice when he replies, _Do you really believe that?_

Then, as soon as he appears, Hal feels the other one vanish from his mind, and he knows that he won’t listen to anything else he might have to say, so with a deep sigh, he reaches out a trembling hand again, rummages right at the back of his bedside drawer for his emergency backup flask, settles down against the back of the sofa again and lets the cold, stale blood run down his throat. 

***

Dominic quickly makes his way along the hallway and down the stairs, trying to bring as much distance between himself and Hal as possible. Still he can feel the hunger flaring up painfully in his stomach at the mere thought of what Hal is doing at that moment. His nostrils flare involuntarily, picking up the faintest hint of blood on the air drifting over through the closed door, nevertheless strong enough to make it almost impossible for him not to turn around and sprint straight back into the room, to steal a taste of that incredible smell. 

Clenching his jaw and clenching his fists tight enough to leave marks on the insides of his palms, he keeps putting one foot in front of the other, and finally he makes it to the bottom of the stairs and into the living room. His eyes dart towards where Tom is sitting on the sofa, a half-finished wooden figurine held in one hand and a whittling knife in the other. 

“I didn’t realise you could do that,” he says, his voice only slightly breathless as he still fights down the persistent hunger in his gut.

Tom looks up and gives him a curious look. “McNair taught me,” he says, watching as Dominic takes a seat across from him. “Used to do it all the time when we was livin’ out in the woods. ‘S jus’ somethin’ to do, innit.”

“I see,” Dominic says.

“I even made one for Tasha once,” Tom continues, eyes fixed on his handiwork. “But this one’s for the little ‘un.”

Dominic’s throat constricts at the words, at the reality that the small wooden shape in Tom’s hands represents. Up until this point, Natasha’s pregnancy has been somehow little more than a theoretical idea for him. Seeing the young werewolf sitting here and quite literally making toys for his unborn child puts the whole thing into a very new perspective.

“That’s a lovely idea,” Dominic says, smiling slightly across at Tom, who gives him an uncertain look.

“Ya think? ‘Cause I know it ain’t as fancy as some of them things that you can buy in town, like, but it’s special ‘cause I made it meself.”

“Yes,” Dominic agrees, nodding. “I’m sure it will be very special.”

Tom also nods, and turns his attention back to the figure in front of him. Dominic watches him in silence for a long moment, before Tom suddenly speaks up again. “I been thinkin’,” he says. “‘Bout me an’ Tasha an’ the little ‘un. It’s a boy ya know,” he says, a smile flitting across his face as he looks across to Dominic, who can’t help a small smile of his own.

“I know. Tasha… she mentioned it when Hal and I went to visit her.”

Tom’s face darkens for a moment, but he doesn’t comment further, and instead says, “I think I wanna name ‘im Anthony, after me dad.” He looks up at Dominic, furrows his brow. “But I haven’t said nowt to Tasha yet. I mean what if she don’t like it?” 

Dominic smiles. “I’m sure you’ll be able to settle on a name, Tom.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, nodding with an absentminded look on his face. “Ya know, Eve didn’t have no name at all for weeks after she were born. Not until George… when he died, like.”

“I didn’t know that,” Dominic says. 

“Yeah,” Tom says, taking up his whittling again. “But yeah, I was sayin’, I been thinkin’ ‘bout me’n Tasha’n the little ‘un, an’ that we’re gonna be like a proper family an’ that, but at the moment I’m ‘ere an’ Tasha’s all the way over in Cardiff, an’—”

“You’re welcome to stay in my flat for as long as you want it, Tom,” Dominic blurts out, a smile flitting across his face. “I’m sure the study would make an excellent nursery.”

Tom’s eyes dart up to him again with a thoughtful expression. “Thanks,” he says, “but that weren’t what I… I’m not much of a city person,” he continues. “I… I grew up in the woods, mostly, an’ I think Barry’s ‘bout the biggest size town I think I’d feel comfortable in. At least from ‘ere I can be out in the woods in like five minutes. The flat’s in the middle of Cardiff, on the second floor, with no safe room or basement for… ya know…” He drifts off, shakes his head. “’S not practical.”

Dominic swallows. “If you put it that way…”

“Yeah,” Tom continues. “So I was thinkin’, maybe Tasha’n the baby could, like, move in h—”

“No,” Dominic cuts in, stomach lurching as he realises what Tom is trying to suggest. “No, Tom, I don’t think that would be a good idea. With…” He pauses, clears his throat, “With me and Hal around, it wouldn’t be a safe environment for either of them.”

Tom frowns. “But Hal used to live with Eve, didn’t ‘e? An’ you’re managin’ fine at work an’ all.”

“That’s different,” Dominic says tensely, throwing Tom an intense look. “Work is… work, I could always get out and go home if I needed to, but… I really don’t think that that would be safe, Tom, I’m sorry.” 

Tom looks back at him with a crestfallen expression. “All righ’, yeah, I get it,” he says quietly. “Like, I know ya didn’t choose to become a vampire an’ that, but I have to tell ya… you people really are a bloody pain in the neck.” Dominic’s eyes widen in shock at the other’s statement, until he notices the corners of Tom’s mouth curling up in a small, teasing smile, and he glares and huffs at him instead. “Wha’?” Tom asks mock-innocently. “It’s the truth, innit?”

Dominic slowly shakes his head and lets out another quiet huff, but he can’t quite keep his lips from lifting up into a small smile of his own. Tom goes back to his whittling, and Dominic lets his eyes flick across to the TV screen that is showing some kind of crime procedural, while his thoughts wander back to the conversation he had with Hal only a short while ago. 

His head is spinning with Hal’s revelation, especially as in his mind’s eye he still sees the image of the young ghost he met the previous day. Add to that the quietly but persistently gnawing hunger in his gut, and the combination of it all makes him feel so many different, conflicting emotions that he is barely able to make sense of anything.

“Can I ask ya somethin’?” Tom asks, interrupting his thoughts, and Dominic’s head snaps up to face him. Tom glances nervously in his direction, and Dominic quickly nods.

“Of course, Tom.”

Tom looks at him with a furrowed brow for a moment, before he says, “Now that Tasha’n I... that we’re, ya know, gonna be parents an’ that, I think that I should, ya know…” he pauses, takes a deep breath, “…make an honest woman outta ’er,” he rushes out eventually. “An’ I was talkin’ to Hal ’bout it once, an’ he seems to think that to do that I should, like, ask ’er father for ’er hand an’ that. But I know that she ain’t got no father no more, so I was thinkin’… well, I know I’m not much of a prospect, an’ I’m probably a lot less than she deserves, jus’ like Cutler said—

“Cutler,” Dominic cuts in, a sharp pain in his chest as he remembers the young vampire from Hal’s memory. In his mind’s eye, his face morphs into that of another young man, and he quickly tries to erase both images from his mind. He clears his throat loudly and says, “I’d forgotten you’d met him.”

“Oh yeah,” Tom confirms, a dark look passing over his face.. “Stupid prick. Good riddance to ’im, what happened. But anyway,” he continues, suddenly looking nervous again. Dominic’s eyes dart down to Tom’s hands, that are clutching the small wooden rabbit for dear life. “So, like I was sayin’, Tasha ain’t got no father no more, so I thought maybe that I could, like, maybe… ask you?” 

Dominic feels a large lump rising into his throat as Tom’s words sink in, and he looks back at the werewolf with wide eyes. “I’m… not her father, Tom,” he says, huffing quietly. “Far from it.”

“I know that,” Tom says, averting his eyes. “I wasn’t meanin’… I jus’ thought… you’re like family to ‘er, ‘s what she always says, like a big brother, kinda, an’ I… I don’t know who else to ask, so…”

Dominic doesn’t know if it is the hunger getting to him, or the way his mind is still reeling after his conversation with Hal, or the sheer absurdity of Tom asking _him_ for Natasha’s hand in marriage, but he feels a high-pitched giggle bubble up from his throat before he has any chance to stop it, and Tom’s face falls almost comically at his reaction.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says quickly. “I-I understand, of course, I’m not exactly ideal marriage material, like. But I’d always treat ‘er well, an’ the baby, because… because I love ‘em both very much, and I—”

“I didn’t say no, Tom,” Dominic cuts in, desperately trying to reign in the very undignified giggles that are still trying to escape him. 

“I know I’m not the smartest or most educated person in the world, but I got a good job at the hotel, an’ I’m—” Tom stops himself as Dominic’s words seem to finally catch up with him. “You didn’t?” he asks, the tiniest hint of hope creeping into his words.

Dominic smiles. “No, I didn’t,” he says. “I… I would be very happy to see you and Tasha getting married,” he finishes, and the resulting smile on Tom’s face almost splits his face in two.

“Really?” he asks.

Dominic nods. “Not that I really have any say in the matter, but, yes, I would be happy for you to marry her, Tom.”

Tom stares at him for a long moment, the smile never waning from his face. “I… thank you.”

Dominic laughs. “You’re welcome.”

Tom looks at him for a moment longer, before suddenly, as soon as it appeared, the smile falls off of his face and is replaced by an expression of pure dread. “But now… how do I ask ‘er?” he asks, and Dominic bursts out laughing again.


	24. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> So this is the first part of a loooong two part chapter. I'm posting the first part now, but the second is as good as finished (pending one final edit) and will be up in the next couple of days. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't done so already, you might want to check out this little [one shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446584) I wrote as an additional scene for Chapter 21.
> 
> Enjoy!

I can’t be the only one  
To think what have we become  
Who can’t quite believe he’s on this side  
This is no ordinary world  
What have you gone and done  
When you had the chance to prove us wrong  
I can’t be the only one

\- The Cooper Temple Clause, “What Have You Gone and Done”

 

Dominic’s eyes sting as he looks down at the photograph in the file on his desk. An image of a young man lying slumped on the floor, eyes closed, almost as if sleeping, if it wasn’t for the unnatural angle of his head and the small puddle of blood underneath him. The bite marks in the left side of his neck that Dominic knows are there are not visible from this angle. 

He stares at the picture for a moment longer, and he waits for the anger and resentment to set in that he thinks he should feel, that he has every right to feel, but in this moment, all he can feel is pity. With a shaky breath, he sets the picture down to the side and starts reading the accompanying case report. He groans as he reads through the autopsy findings, describing in detail an almost completely exsanguinated body with no obvious internal or external sources of bleeding, except for two very small circular entry wounds on the neck. 

Dominic reaches for his tea mug, taking a large gulp to try and get rid of the sudden flare of hunger deep in his gut, all the while thinking distractedly that they will have to run some training refresher sessions for the coroners and key police staff sometime soon to help them recognise such blatantly obvious signs of a Type 2 attack. How is he supposed to run this department if cases like this one are not immediately referred to them?

He stops in his track with his mug hovering in midair, a frown settling on his face as his brain catches up with the bitter irony of the thought. How is he supposed to run this department if the main perpetrator is the person he – despite everything he has done – still loves more than anything else in the world?

 _It wasn’t me,_ he can almost hear Hal’s voice in his mind, _it was him._ He can all but see Hal’s big, pleading hazel eyes boring into him, and he sighs deeply and squeezes his eyes shut, but the image doesn’t disappear. 

_But it was, Hal,_ he replies to Hal’s voice in his head, faintly wondering if he is losing his mind. _It was you, because what he is is not separate from you. You are all one._

A brief image of Henry flashes up in his mind, curled up on the sofa with a look of such utter panic in his eyes, and his throat closes up at the way Hal treated him almost like a guilty secret that needs to remain hidden. There is a lot he doesn’t understand about all this, but he is starting to get the feeling more and more that Hal doesn’t, either. Perhaps, he thinks, the only choice they have will be to learn together.

The sound of his phone vibrating on the desk next to him interrupts his thoughts, and he frowns as he glances down at the screen, his chest tightening painfully as he reads the text message.

**Hey. Didn’t see you at breakfast again today. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.**

Dominic lifts the phone off the desk and starts typing a reply.

_**I meant it when I said I need to stay away from you for a while Hal.**_

Hal’s reply comes through almost immediately. 

**That doesn’t mean you should skip breakfast. I told you before that it helps with the hunger if nothing else. Don’t tell me that that doesn’t affect you.**

Dominic lets out a mirthless laugh.

_**I wasn’t the one draining a human less than a week ago.**_

Hal’s next message takes a little bit longer, but when it comes, it makes Dominic’s throat constrict.

**No, but you still got to share in the result of it.**

Dominic swallows thickly as he types out his reply.

_**I was drinking your blood Hal, not his.** _

He stares for a moment at the letters on the screen, black and white evidence of his new existence. This is what he is now. He is a vampire. He drinks blood. Whether it is another vampire’s or a human’s, at the end of the day, blood is blood. And, as it turns out, the blood he had was basically second hand human blood anyway. 

An icy chill runs down his spine at the thought, as his eyes wander back to the picture of Jamie lying dead on his bedroom floor. How is he supposed to run this department if he got himself drunk on the blood of the very person who’s death he is investigating?

He takes a deep breath, presses ‘Send’ before he can change his mind, and Hal’s reply flashes up a moment later.

**Fine. Keep lying to yourself. But it won’t make the cravings go away.**

Dominic takes another large gulp of tea when, as if on cue, the hunger flares up like a white hot poker in his gut. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, focuses on the hot liquid running down the back of his throat, compares it to the feeling of warm, sweet blood, feeling so smooth and velvety as it makes its way down, like it was designed to be ingested in that way. Before he can stop himself, a small, pitiful moan escapes his mouth as he can almost taste it on his tongue, that indescribable, incomparable flavour that he wants more than anything else in the world.

Clenching his teeth together and glancing back down at his phone screen, he types,

_**You’re right. It won’t.**_

Once again Hal’s reply shows up almost straight away.

**Okay. Are you going to have some breakfast then please?**

Hal’s persistence actually makes him chuckle, and a warm glow spreads through his chest as he marvels at the fact that even after everything he’s done, Hal still manages to put a smile on his face.

_**I’m in an underground bunker in the middle of the woods, Hal. There isn’t a single shop in a five mile radius from here.**_

**And you’re going to be in the office all day?**

Dominic sighs deeply as his gaze drops back down to the file on his desk.

_**Most likely yes. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to get on with.**_

Hal’s reply takes a little longer this time, until, finally, a new message shows up, and Dominic reads,

 **Hold on, I’ve got an idea.**

Dominic looks at his screen for a long moment, expecting Hal to continue, and he almost jumps out of his skin as, a couple of minutes later, Alex materialises right in front of his desk, an exasperated look on her face and what looks like a sandwich clasped in one hand.

“Alex?” he gasps, eyes wide as he looks up at her. 

“Hey, Blondie,” Alex replies with a sigh. “Could you please tell your boyfriend that I’m not a fucking courier?” She holds the sandwich out to him, but Dominic can’t do anything but stare at her for the longest moment.

“Did he actually just send you here to deliver a sandwich?” he asks faintly.

Alex rolls her eyes. “Looks like it, doesn’t it?” she replies, and, as he still makes no move to take the sandwich from her, drops it down on the desk next to Jamie’s file. A soft gasp escapes her mouth as her eyes home in on the picture he studied earlier.

“Shit, Dominic,” she breathes, lifting her eyes to meet his own. “How can you stand it, knowing what you know about…”

Dominic swallows. “I haven’t got a choice,” he says, looking around the large archive room. “What am I supposed to do? This is my job, Alex, I just have to…” he drifts off, shrugs, “…get on with it.”

“Huh,” Alex says, giving him a scrutinising look. “Yeah,” she says eventually. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, and she snorts and shakes her head.

“Fucking smartarse,” she mutters under her breath, and he chuckles. Alex’s eyes roam around the room for a moment, before they fall back down on the picture on his desk, and she picks it up to give it a closer look.

“Alex, don’t—” 

“Shit, that looks grim,” Alex says, looking back up to meet Dominic’s eyes, and he sighs and nods.

“It does rather.”

A dark look passes over Alex’s face. “I still remember seeing my body in that basement,” she says, a visible shudder running through her. “Hell, I think if I could’ve still puked, I would’ve puked my brains out. And then in you walk, completely unaffected, barely a sideways glance at that dead girl’s body hanging up on a meat hook with fucking tubes sticking out of her neck…” She pauses, shakes her head. “I mean, I know you’re probably used to seeing that kind of thing every day, doing what you do, but… doesn’t it ever bother you?” she asks, frowning.

A sad smile settles on Dominic’s face. “It does if it was Hal that did it,” he says quietly.

She stares back at him for a long moment, then back down at the picture in her hand, before she carefully sets it back down on his desk, looks up at him, and asks, “You talked to him last night, didn’t you?” 

Dominic’s chest tightens as he remembers their conversation. He nods and looks down. “Yes, I did.”

He can feel Alex’s expectant eyes on him for a long time, before eventually, she asks, “And?”

“And he remains adamant that it was the other one that did it,” Dominic says with a sigh. “He says he doesn’t remember anything that happened. Apparently he spoke to Jamie a couple of times, tried to discourage him from seeing him again, but… well. He says the other one acted completely out of his control, and that he doesn’t remember anything that happened.” He looks back up into Alex’s face to see her narrowing her eyes at him.

“And you believe him?” she asks.

Dominic thinks back to the way Hal looked at him last night, big hazel eyes so full of sincerity, and he nods and says, “I have no reason not to. In fact,” he adds, as Alex continues to look unconvinced, “it would fit with something Jamie told me, that he seemed to act completely differently towards him a couple of times he spoke to him, and he said that Hal was giving him…” his throat closes up, and he clear it loudly, “that he was giving him mixed signals.”

Alex looks like she mulls that information over in her head for a moment before she says, “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.” Her eyes fall back down to the file on his desk, then to the laptop open in front of him. “So… what does that mean for your… investigation?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Remember that officially I never spoke to Jamie,” he says, giving her a significant look. “From the information I gathered at the crime scene, combined with this – frankly incompetent – autopsy report, there is no evidence whatsoever that would link Hal to the crime.”

“So you’re going to lie?” Alex asks, raising her eyebrows at him.

“I—”

His head whips up as he hears the heavy steel door opening at the other end of the room, and he throws an alarmed glance towards Alex before his eyes fall back on the tall, grey-clad figure of Mike stepping through the door and walking down the aisle towards him.

“Who’s he?” Alex asks, and Dominic just sends her another meaningful look.

“Sir,” Mike says as he approaches the desk, and Dominic clenches his hands into tight fists under his desk as he is hit with a sudden waft of the human’s blood. Mike gives him a nervous look. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to see you like this.”

“Not at all, Mike,” Dominic says with a small, tense smile, and the man visibly relaxes.

“Thank you, sir,” he says. 

“Mike, huh?” Alex pipes up, standing only a few feet to Mike’s left and looking him up and down. 

Dominic lets out an exasperated sigh and gives her yet another look. 

“Sir?” Mike asks hesitantly, and Dominic’s eyes snap across to him again.

“Sorry, I was… deep in thought about something. How can I help you?”

“Well, I just… I just suddenly thought,” he says. “Do you remember when we spoke to the girl at the hotel, Louise?”

“You what?” Alex asks incredulously.

Dominic looks around to her and, as inconspicuously as possible, mouthes, ‘Leave.’

“Sir, is something the matter?” Mike asks, following Dominic’s gaze, and he gives him a disarming smile.

“Nothing, Mike, sorry. You were saying?”

“Yes, about Louise, at the hotel,” Mike repeats.

“Why did you go to the hotel?” Alex asks, “Is this to do with Hal?” 

Dominic has to use all of his willpower not to turn around to her again, and instead he keeps his eyes fixed on Mike in front of him, smiles, and asks, “What about her, Mike?”

“Well, she said that SJ031 would be back at work today, didn’t she, and I thought maybe we could go speak to him—“

“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” Dominic says quickly, and Mike frowns.

“But sir, isn’t he still the main suspect? I mean, not to speak out of line, but I thought we would have... I don’t know... visited him at home by now.”

Dominic’s eyes widen involuntarily at Mike’s words, and he can hear Alex huff next to him.

“As I said, I didn’t think that was necessary, Mike,” Dominic says with as much composure as he can muster, but the other man continues to look at him with questioning eyes, and he sighs deeply and adds, “But perhaps you are right about paying the hotel another visit.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mike says, just as Alex blurts out, “Oh yeah, that sounds like a fun idea. Can I come?”

‘No,’ Dominic mouthes without even so much as looking in her direction, before he gives Mike a big, fake smile and says, “Excellent. I’ll just have to finish up a few bits and pieces here, and then I will be right with you.”

“Of course, sir,” Mike says with a small nod, then turns on his heels and makes his way across the large room to the exit.

As soon as the door has fallen shut behind him, Dominic turns around to Alex with a dark frown on his face. “Are you trying to get me into trouble?” 

“No, of course not,” she says in an exasperated tone. “But don’t you think that if you go and talk to Hal about—” she cuts herself off suddenly, and Dominic’s eyes narrow.

“About?” he asks carefully.

“About whatever it is you’re investigating at the hotel,” she quickly adds, but she doesn’t quite meet Dominic’s eyes, and his frown deepens.

“Alex? Why do I get the feeling there is something you aren’t telling me?”

She looks back at him with a wide-eyed, innocent expression that doesn’t fool him for one second. “Me? Are you interrogating _me_ now?” she asks, then quickly shakes her head. “No, never mind. What I was saying was that I think you should at least _tell_ Hal that you’re coming to talk to him.”

Dominic clenches his teeth and nods. “And I will.”

“I was just thinking,” Alex continues, “that maybe I could go and—”

“I thought you said you’re ‘not a fucking courier’?” Dominic asks, raising his eyebrows at her, and she lets out a frustrated huff. 

“Well I didn’t mean—”

“Just go home, Alex,” Dominic says, his voice losing its bite and just sounding tired and dejected now. “You can’t help me with this. It’s something I have to do, and… and I’d appreciate it if you just let me do it. Please.”

“But I—”

“Thank you for bringing me breakfast,” he continues, giving her a small smile. “I appreciate it. But I think it’s best for everyone involved if you just… leave now.”

“But—”

“Alex!” he barks out through clenched teeth.

Alex sighs. “Okay, If you’re sure.”

“Yes, thank you,” he says, and she sighs again.

“All right then. See ya,” she says, before she disappears into thin air.

Dominic lets out a long, deep breath, picks up his phone and quickly writes out a message.

_**Coming to the hotel to talk to you.**_

Hal’s reply is instant.

**I take it you don’t mean a social call.**

Dominic sighs deeply and types,

_**Correct. I’ll be bringing a colleague.**_

**I’ve already told you everything you need to know about Jamie.**

Dominic hates the way the mere sight of the name written in black and white on his phone screen makes him want to throw up. He quickly replies,

_**This isn’t about Jamie.**_

It takes a moment for Hal to reply this time, but eventually, the message shows up, and Dominic reads,

**Then what is it about?**

Dominic’s thumb hovers over the keyboard for a long moment, while he thinks about how much he can – and how much he actually _wants to_ – reveal to Hal. He finally settles on,

_**Another case I’m working on. A woman who disappeared from the hotel a few weeks ago.**_

Once again, Hal doesn’t respond straight away, and when he does, it is only one word.

**Right.**

Dominic frowns down at his phone for a long time, waiting for something else to follow, but there is nothing, and after a minute or so of complete silence, ignoring the quiet alarm bell at the back of his mind that tries to warn him of all the possible implications of that one word, Dominic prompts,

_**Hal?**_

Almost another minute goes by, before a new message finally shows up on his screen.

**Thanks for the warning.**

Dominic swallows down the slowly growing lump in his throat, sighs deeply, and writes,

_**You’re welcome.**_

Then, without waiting for another reply, he grabs the sandwich Alex brought him and jumps up from behind his desk. He unwraps the sandwich as he makes his way towards the heavy steel door and takes a hearty bite out of it as he walks down the corridor.

He passes Arthur on his way, who throws him a slightly bemused smile and says, “Breakfast, sir?”

“Yes,” Dominic replies, smiling back at the older man. “Didn’t much feel like eating it at home this morning, so I… took it with me.” 

“I understand completely, sir,” Arthur says, giving him a meaningful look that makes a faint blush rise into Dominic’s cheeks. “I hope you’ll… sort things out soon, back home.” 

“Thanks, Arthur,” he says tensely, once again racking his brain for any memory of that night, and how much he may have possibly told the other man. And just like every other time, he comes up short, so he smiles, shakes his head, and repeats, “Thanks.”

“Not to worry, sir,” Arthur says. “I’ll see you later.” Then he excuses himself and disappears through one of the countless grey doors along the corridor. 

Dominic keeps walking in the other direction, until he rounds a corner and almost crashes into Mike, who is standing ready in his coat, clutching what looks like a large wooden stake in one hand. Dominic’s eyes widen and his heart stutters out an extra beat as he fights the instinctive urge to take a step back from the deadly weapon.

“Mike,” he says, slightly breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off the stake in the other man’s hand. “What… are you planning to do with that?”

Mike gives him a wide-eyed look and says, “We’re going to confront a highly dangerous Type 2, aren’t we, sir? I thought it would be good to be prepared.”

Dominic lets out a relieved breath, nods and says, “You’re right to be prepared, Mike, but please remember that H— SJ031 has not been linked to any Type 2-related incidents for a good long while now, so please don’t be too intimidated by his… résumé.”

Mike gives him an uncertain look. “If you’re sure, sir.” 

“Yes, Mike, I’m sure,” Dominic says, smiling despite the sudden reappearance of the lump in his throat that has been dispersing over the last few minutes. He quickly looks from Mike in the direction of the stairs that lead to the exit, and back again. “All right then, shall we?”

“Of course, sir,” Mike says, nodding. “After you.”

Dominic’s hackles rise as he turns his back to the armed human, and swiftly makes his way up the staircase, his keen ears picking up the other’s footsteps on the stairs behind him. The human’s scent is strong in such close proximity, and Dominic quickly takes another large bite of the sandwich still clasped in his hand, ignoring the slightly cardboardy texture and focusing instead on the way the flavours of the bread, butter and strawberry jam mix together in his mouth, sweet and a little bit salty at the same time, but the thought reminds him of something else that would fit that description, just a hundred times more delicious. Red like the jam, but smooth and warm, rather than the rough, cold, sandpaper texture of the bread in his mouth, and he feels a tingle down his spine as he picks up the scent again, so close, so irresistible, and his eyes start itching, so he blinks, and suddenly the bleak grey walls of the staircase erupt in hundreds of colours. He experimentally runs his tongue over his teeth and comes up against two sharp points, and something at the back of his mind screams that this is _bad_ and _wrong_ and he needs to _get a grip of himself, now!_

Without ever slowing his quick steps up the stairs, he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and for some unfathomable reason, thinks of Natasha and the baby. And slowly, very slowly, he feels the urge subside, and his fangs retract, and he cautiously blinks his eyes open to once again be faced with the naked grey walls he knows so well.

A moment later, he makes it to the top of the staircase and reaches out to activate the door mechanism, and the heavy bunker door swings open before him. Fresh, cold air hits his lungs, and he takes a few deep gulps of it to replace the lingering scent of blood under his nose. 

He turns around to Mike, eyes flicking down to the stake the other man still holds in his hand. 

“I’d probably put that away somewhere if I were you,” he points out, a tense edge in his voice that he tries his very best to hide. “It won’t exactly help our relationship with the Type 2 if you go in there all guns blazing.”

“Of course, sir,” Mike says, sounding slightly sheepish. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t worry. We all have things to learn, Mike,” Dominic says with a small, strained smile. “Now, I hope you don’t mind if we travel separately. I may not come straight back here afterwards, and I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

Mike’s brow creases, and he opens his mouth as if to ask a question, but he seems to think better of it, and he nods and says, “Of course, sir. No problem at all. I’ll see you there.” Then he turns and walks off in the direction of his car, leaving Dominic to stand in the middle of the forest for a long, silent moment, taking another few large gulps of the clean, crisp winter air and clearing his mind of disturbing images of bright red liquid pulsing out of punctured arteries. 

Taking one last deep breath, Dominic opens the door to his rented grey Audi and slides into the driver’s seat. Time to work.

***

Hal stares down at his phone screen for a long moment, his mind flooding with unbidden images of the mangled dead body of a woman, lying naked on blood soaked sheets. He tries to take deep breaths, grips the edge of the reception desk tightly with one hand, tries to use the feeling of the cold wood under his fingers to ground himself, but it feels like the thought of Dominic finding out about yet another one of his misdeeds has opened the floodgates, and the images just keep coming, slowly morphing and merging with those of other bodies, other faces, some female, some male, all brutally ripped apart by vicious teeth, arteries and viscera exposed by his own hand, and he can see it, distant hazy memories of himself tearing into them, ripping them apart, their screams and gasps for help, all drowned out by his own exasperated sighs and cruel laughter. 

Hal grips the desk tighter between his fingers, forces his eyes to look down to where his knuckles are turning white, and he gasps in another deep breath, blinking away the images, fighting down the hunger that inevitably follows. 

_Enjoying the show?_ the other one speaks up inside his mind, and Hal clenches his jaw.

 _Hardly,_ he scoffs. _You’re a sick monster, and I don’t want those memories. I don’t want any part in that, you hear me? Dominic is on his way here because of_ your _fuck-up, and as much as I would love to say ‘You go on and sort it out’, I don’t trust you for one second alone with him, so that’s definitely not going to happen. So just… let me deal with this and go the hell back to sleep or whatever it is you do in there._

 _Don’t think you can just continue like this forever, Hal,_ the other one replies. _Dominic all but_ begged _you to let him speak to me, and you just keep refusing. But you know full well that I have the capability of taking control of the body, so what makes you think I’m not going to do it anyway? And that way, I could do whatever I want with him and you would never even know._

Hal lets out a dark laugh. _You wouldn’t dare. Remember what I told you before. I would sooner kill the body than let you play your disgusting games with Dominic. I’ve learned my lesson. You’re not going to win this time._

“Whoa, Hal? Hello?” 

Hal’s eyes snap up to the source of the voice, and he almost chokes on a bit of saliva in his throat when he recognises Louise standing in front of him with a creased brow.

“Jeez, you looked like you were properly spaced out there,” she continues. “You all right?”

“I…” he croaks, then clears his throat, gives her an unconvincing smile, and says, “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks.”

A waft of O negative hits his nostrils then, making them quiver, and a powerful flare of hunger erupts in his gut. 

“Are you sure?” Louise asks, as if on cue. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Yeah, you know,” Hal chokes out, quickly getting up and making his way out from behind the reception desk, “I just might be.” Then he all but sprints to the staff toilet and throws the door shut behind him. Letting himself flop down heavily on the closed toilet lid, he swallows compulsively to get rid of the almost overwhelming urge to tear into the blonde girl’s throat. 

No. No, he can’t do this again. Not ever again. And definitely not _here_ of all places. But that’s not the point, because he won’t do this again. Anywhere. He is stronger than this. He managed to stay clean for fifty-five years before, that’s a long time. He can do this. He _will_ do this. He has to.

Hal doesn’t know how much time has passed when there is a careful knock on the door, accompanied by another faint scent of the most delicious blood on the air. Oh how he misses that blood. Nothing else has ever come close since.

“Hal?” Louise’s voice sounds through the closed door. “Are you okay in there? You haven’t… passed out or something, have you?”

Hal chuckles quietly. “No, Louise, I haven’t passed out. I just… needed a moment. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Good,” she says, a nervous edge creeping into her voice, “because there are two gentlemen here to see you.”

Hal clears his throat. “Two gentlemen?” he asks, even though he knows full well who it is she is talking about.

“Yes,” Louise confirms. “They’re from the police. About that… that woman who disappeared, remember?”

 _Oh, do I remember,_ Hal thinks bitterly, and the other one laughs coldly in his head. 

“Of course,” he says out loud. “Please tell them I will be there in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” Louise asks hesitantly. “I mean, you _have_ just been sick. Maybe you should go home. I can always ask them to come back—”

“No,” Hal says quickly. “I’m fine. Let me just freshen up and I will be there shortly.”

“Uh huh,” says Louise, and he listens to her quickly retreating footsteps before, with a deep sigh, he stands up, braces himself, and opens the door. His chest tightens at the thought of what is likely to follow, and he wonders faintly why he didn’t just let Louise tell them that he is unwell. A cop out, certainly, and one that Dominic would see through in a second. But at least it would save him the humiliation of being _interrogated_ by the man he loves in front of one of his clueless work colleagues. 

Not now though, he thinks, as he slowly makes his way towards the reception. No getting out of it now.

He steps through the double doors, and his eyes land immediately on Dominic, dressed in his grey suit, looking one hundred percent the professional, even though there is a certain undercurrent of nervousness, a certain discomfort that Hal is fairly sure only he can detect. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he can’t help the warm buzz that spreads in his chest at seeing Dominic standing there. He’s missed him more than he would ever dare admit to himself these last few days.

“Ah, Mr Yorke, thank you for seeing us,” Dominic says formally, giving him a plastered on smile and holding out his hand to Hal, which he promptly shakes. 

“Mr Rook,” he says in an equally formal tone, even as he sends Dominic a look that says, ‘Really, Dominic?’

Dominic, however, just keeps that fake smile plastered on his face, turns around to the man next to him, and says, “This is my colleague, Mike Ashford.” Hal’s eyes briefly roam over the other man – tall, lanky, average looking. Probably in his early to mid-twenties. 

“Mr Ashford,” he says, holding his hand out to the man, who stares at it for a long moment, a slight deer in the headlights look in his eyes, but makes no move to actually shake it. 

Hal hears Dominic clear his throat loudly, and he looks up just in time to see him give the younger man a significant look. “Mike?” he prompts under his breath, and Hal has to suppress a smile, despite the blatant disrespect he has just been subjected to.

Mike’s eyes snap up to meet Hal’s as he gives him a hesitant smile and a very quick handshake. “Mr Yorke.”

Hal looks around him, making sure they are not overheard, before he gives Mike an intense look and says, “Not a fan of vampires, I see.”

“I-I…” 

“Mike is very new to the job, Mr Yorke, please excuse his lack of manners,” Dominic says with a sharp look toward the other man, before he turns back towards Hal and asks, “Isn’t there somewhere a little bit more… private… we could hold this conversation?”

Hal raises his eyebrows at him. “That depends on what you’re intending to do, Mr Rook,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting up. 

Dominic coughs loudly. “We only have a few questions to ask you, I assure you, Mr Yorke. I merely thought it might be prudent to… stay away from any prying ears.”

Hal gives him a long hard look, watches Dominic squirm under his gaze, until, eventually, he says, “Of course, Mr Rook. Please, follow me. We can go to the manager’s office.”

He turns around, listens for the two sets of footsteps following along behind him, until he finds himself in front of the door to the manager’s office, and he quickly opens it and steps through into the spacious room. Turning around again, he comes face to face with Dominic, as Mike Ashford is closing the door behind them. 

Dominic smiles that horrible fake smile at him again, and Hal is overcome by the sudden urge to grab him and kiss that smile straight off his mouth, but in that moment, Mike turns around to face them, and Hal grabs painfully onto the desk behind him, nods politely in Dominic’s direction and asks, “So, what can I do for you?”

“As your colleague Louise may or may not have told you already,” Dominic says with a tense edge in his voice, “we have been investigating the disappearance of one of the hotel’s guests, a Mrs Karen Richards.”

Hal gives him a calculating look, choosing his next words very carefully. “I take it, if you’re talking to me, she’s not just missing, is she?”

Dominic sighs. “No, Mr Yorke, she isn’t. But before we go into any of those details, I would very much like you to outline your… involvement in her stay here, if you may.”

Hal’s brow creases. “Please excuse me, Mr Rook, but you can’t expect me to give you information without even knowing what it is you are trying to accuse me of.”

Dominic smiles somewhat coldly. “Who says we are accusing you of anything?”

“Oh, please,” Hal says, huffing out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re just here to gather facts. Something clearly happened to her, and you’re trying to pin it on me. All I ask is a few more details.”

“Sir,” Mike suddenly speaks up, and both of them turn around to face him. “If I may… the… Type 2— I-I mean Mr Yorke may have a point, sir. That he should know what’s going on?”

Dominic sighs deeply. “Yes, perhaps you’re right,” he says, nodding at Mike before turning back to Hal. “Just for the record, we’re not trying to ‘pin’ anything on anyone. But, yes, Mrs Richards was found dead. Murdered. By a vampire.” 

Hal’s chest tightens. “You’re… sure it was a vampire?” he asks.

Dominic huffs. “I have done this job for a fair few years, Mr Yorke. I can assure you I can spot a vampire attack if I see one.” 

Hal gives him a long, thoughtful look, but eventually nods and says, “Of course, sorry. And thank you. Now I suppose it’s my turn to give you what you were asking for.” He pauses, and Dominic silently nods at him to continue. “I… met Mr and Mrs Richards a couple of times during their stay here. Both of them were very pleasant, polite people, although…” he drifts off, frowning.

“Although?” Dominic prompts, big blue eyes fixed on him. Hal averts his own eyes to the floor.

“Although I remember Mrs Richards showing some… shall we say unhealthy interest… in me.”

His eyes flick back up to predictably see Dominic giving him a sharp look. “Please do elaborate, Mr Yorke,” he says, the tone of his voice carefully even, but Hal can see his nostrils flaring.

He clears his throat and says, “She flirted with me. A lot. I made it very clear right from the start that I wasn’t interested, but… she didn’t seem to be discouraged.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “I see,” he says. Out of the corner of his eye, Hal can see Mike frantically scribbling away on a notepad. 

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “It seemed to me, and please don’t take this as fact as it was only my perception, but it seemed that her marriage wasn’t a particularly happy one. She seemed… very lonely, to me.”

Dominic gives him a thoughtful look. “Please excuse me, Mr Yorke, but… why are you telling us all this?”

Hal lifts his eyebrows. “I thought you asked me to outline my involvement. I’m just trying to paint as accurate a picture as possible.”

He can see Dominic’s Adam’s apple rising and falling rapidly, before he nods and says, “Of course. Please, continue.”

“So, I remember on the night of her… disappearance,” Hal continues, “Mr and Mrs Richards had an argument at the bar. I was working a late shift that night. He had gotten a phone call from his boss asking him to come home, and she was annoyed at him leaving. I remember her returning to the bar later that evening and ordering a fair few drinks. She was not in a very good place.”

“And did she try to… flirt… with you again?” Dominic asks. 

Hal’s eyes snap up to meet his own, a silent plea in them to believe him, as he says, “Yes, she did. But I stuck by what I said, and she… became even more upset, angry even, at being turned down, and she just… decided to leave there and then. I tried to persuade her to at least stay the night, but she had her mind made up, so she packed her bags and left. That was about… half eleven in the evening.” He pauses, throwing a sideways glance at Mike, who is still scribbling away on his notepad, and he gives Dominic a heavy, significant look and says, “That’s the last I saw of her, I swear.”

And Dominic’s blue eyes meet his own with a look that says, ‘I’m not sure if I can believe you, but I will accept your answer for now’, before he nods and says, “Thank you, Mr Yorke.”

Hal gives Dominic a small, grateful smile, when suddenly Mike looks up from his notepad and says, “Just one more question, Mr Yorke, if you may.”

Hal whirls around to him, eyes widening fractionally. “Yes, of course, Mr Ashford,” he says.

“Why did you not fill in the check-out information in the register?”

Hal swallows, remembering Louise filling in the information for him the following morning. “It was late,” he says quickly. “I was tired and… bewildered by her sudden departure. That was all. To be honest, it didn’t even cross my mind at the time.” He throws Mike a small, disarming smile, but the other man just gives him a dark look.

“So tired that you decided to sleep in the hotel that night,” he continues.

Hal nods. “Yes, I did. I… do that sometimes after a late shift, and with trying to persuade Mrs Richards to stay, it had really gotten quite late, so I decided to stay.”

“I thought you only live ten minutes away?” Mike continues, and Dominic clears his throat loudly.

“Mike, I really don’t think that this is all that relevant.”

“But, sir—”

“Mike,” Dominic repeats sharply. “Mr Yorke has already told us everything we need to know. Plus, how would he have been able to take the body all the way up to Scotland, hm?” At his last words, he turns around to Hal again, raising his eyebrows at him in a silent question, and Hal quickly averts his eyes.

“Scotland?” he asks carefully.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Dominic nod. “That’s where the body was found, floating in a lake.”

Hal frowns. “Well, that is odd.” He lifts his eyes back up to the two men watching him. “Mrs Richards never said where she was going when she left here, but why she would’ve gone to Scotland is anyone’s guess.”

“Indeed,” says Dominic. “But seeing as we are not here for guessing games, I don’t think there is anything else we need from you at the moment, Mr Yorke. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“You’re welcome, Mr Rook,” Hal says, brushing past Dominic slightly closer than he has to, his fingers ghosting over the back of Dominic’s hand as he crosses the room to open the door. “I take it you can find your own way out?” 

“Of course,” Dominic says, nodding, and without another look back, he steps through the door and disappears down the corridor towards the dining room. 

Mike stays behind for a moment, staring at him as if to try and make sense of something, before he shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, gives Hal a strained smile, and in a voice dripping with sarcasm, he says, “Thank you, _Mr Yorke_.” Then he turns and follows along behind Dominic, leaving Hal standing alone in the large room. He quickly closes the door, makes his way behind the desk and slumps down in the chair, letting out a deep sigh. 

That was way too close. And something tells him that it is far from over. 


	25. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> And here it is, as promised, Part 2 of 2. This chapter starts immediately after the end of the previous one.

You left me down here  
You let me down  
Now it seems you're never coming back  
Because they never fight fair  
They've dragged us all in  
Just stay on guard  
Don't show all our cards  
Repeat, you have to stay on guard

\- The Cooper Temple Clause, “What Have You Gone and Done”

 

Hal sits unmoving at the desk, staring at the closed office door for a good few minutes, trying to get his frayed nerves back together. He takes a deep breath, pulls his phone out of his pocket and is about to type out a message when he changes his mind again and instead dials Dominic’s number. 

It rings a couple of times, before Dominic picks up and answers with a very businesslike, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Hal says hesitantly. “Are you alone?”

“I’m in the car,” Dominic replies in a clipped tone, and Hal swallows.

“Alone?” he asks again.

Dominic sighs. “Yes, Hal, I’m alone.”

Hal takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I just wanted to say—”

“Did you do it, Hal?” Dominic cuts in. “Did you kill that woman?”

“I… no,” Hal says immediately, shaking his head. But then Dominic’s words from last night echo in his mind— 

_If you want this – us – to work out, you – all of you – will have to be completely open and honest with me from now on, you understand?_

—and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter and, past the growing lump in his throat, says, “What I mean to say is, _he_ d—”

“Hal,” Dominic interrupts him again, sounding frustrated. “We’ve talked about this.”

Hal swallows thickly, ignoring the other one snickering in his head, and quietly says, “Yes, Dominic. I— _we_ did it. We killed her, and I’m so, so sorry—”

Dominic huffs loudly. “Please, Hal, not that again. We’ve been through this way too many times, and you know what? Part of me really just wants to say, so what? Just another body to add to the pile of thousands already on your conscience. I mean, I knew what I was getting myself into when I first started this relationship, didn’t I.”

“No, Dominic, I’m not—” Hal starts, but Dominic just carries on like he never even heard him. 

“But then I think about everything that happened,” he says. “That I literally went to hell and back to save you, because I felt that you deserved to be saved. That I sacrificed my _humanity_ for you. And while I sat there trying to come to terms with the consequences, you repaid me by going on yet another fucking killing spree.”

Hal scoffs. “I’d hardly call two people a ‘killing spree’.”

Dominic is silent on the other end for a long moment, before he quietly says, “Funny, but that sounds very much like something _he_ would say.”

Hal feels his throat closing up again, and he clears it loudly. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says quickly, but the tone of his voice doesn’t even convince himself.

Predictably, Dominic lets out a husky chuckle. “Don’t you? Really, Hal?”

Hal sighs deeply. “All right, yes,” he says reluctantly. “Ever since… what happened yesterday, the other one has been unusually… present… in my mind.”

“I thought when I asked you yesterday whether I could talk to him, you told me that it ‘doesn’t work like that’, that you lost all contact with him?” Dominic says sharply. “Was that just another lie, Hal?”

“No!” Hal all but shouts down the phone line, then, quieter, repeats, “No, it wasn’t a lie. But that was before… what happened. You know, with… with Henry. Since then, he’s been… a lot more vocal, I suppose.”

“Okay then, let me talk to him,” Dominic replies instantly, and Hal’s eyes widen. 

“What, you mean here? Now? Over the phone?”

“No, I don’t mean right now,” Dominic says with a sigh. “Tonight. After work. I’m going to talk to him, Hal, whether you like it or not. You’re welcome to be there, to… keep an eye on things. But I _have_ to talk to him.”

Hal sighs deeply, closes his eyes again, and nods. It’s not like he’s really got any choice. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Dominic replies. “I’ll see you this evening. And… thanks again for… the information.”

“Dominic,” Hal says quickly, before the other has a chance to end the call.

“Yes, Hal?”

“You…” he pauses, takes a deep breath. “You’re not going to… to tell them the truth, are you?”

Dominic scoffs. “No, of course not.”

“About this or… about Jamie,” Hal clarifies.

“No, Hal,” Dominic repeats, sounding slightly exasperated. “What would I gain from locking you up in a cell?”

“Your co-workers’ trust,” Hal says simply. “I thought that would count for something.”

Dominic hesitates for a long moment, before he quietly says, “Don’t be silly.”

There is something about the way he says it that, despite the terrible mess they are finding themselves in, puts a small, fragile smile on Hal’s face. “Thank you,” he says, and the sound of Dominic chuckling softly on the other end makes his smile widen.

“I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes,” Dominic says.

“Because you love me,” Hal says before he can stop himself, before the painful memory of the other one saying those exact same words floats into his consciousness and makes him cringe.

Dominic gasps slightly on the other end, and Hal opens his mouth to offer an apology, when Dominic says, “I think you’re right.” 

Hal is too stunned to say or do anything for a long moment, and then the line goes dead.

He doesn’t know how long he has been sitting, staring into space, repeating his conversation with Dominic over and over in his head, when once again, a soft knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. 

He clears his throat and says, “Come in.”

The door opens, revealing none other than Louise, looking at him intently. “Can we talk?” 

Hal nods. “Of course,” he says, gesturing for her to come in. 

Louise hesitates in the doorway for a moment, then she nods to herself, shuts the door behind her and crosses the room in a few quick strides, sitting down in the chair across from him. As she does, he gets another strong waft of her blood, and the hunger flares up wildly inside of him. His eyes wander down to her pale, exposed neck, following the soft outline of the jugular vein from her collarbone up to where her neck meets her jaw, and he can feel his mouth starting to water, can feel his gums itch, his fangs mere seconds from breaking through. It would be so easy. 

He swallows thickly, forces his eyes up to meet hers, and says, “What did you want to talk about, Louise?”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on, Hal,” Louise replies without preamble. “And don’t even think about giving me the same shit you’ve been spouting all along. I know you’ve had something to do with that woman’s death, and I think you were somehow involved in that young man’s as well. I just get a really, really bad feeling whenever I’m around you, and my mum’s always told me to trust my instincts, because they’ve never once been wrong. Never mind the fact that Tasha has basically _told_ me you’ve got some shady stuff in your past, so, please, for the love of God, tell me the truth, Hal. I need to know.”

Hal lets out a humourless laugh. “Tasha told you what exactly?” he asks.

“Nothing much,” Louise says quickly, her mask of bravado slipping for just one moment. “Just that I shouldn’t confront you, because there are some… ugly things in your past, but you’ve moved past them since.”

“That sounds like Natasha all right,” he says, smiling grimly. “I’ve got to say, Louise, you have some guts, coming in here like that. I’m impressed.”

Louise’s eyes narrow. “Why? What are you going to do to me? Kill me? Have another death to cover up? Because it looks to me like they’re closing in on you, Hal, and you’re not going to get away with it for much longer. So, what are you? Some kind of… serial killer?”

Hal barks out a laugh, even as a particularly strong wave of hunger makes his stomach turn, and he can feel beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. “No, Louise. I’m not a… serial killer.”

“Then what?” Louise retorts, looking him up and down, and her glare slowly morphs into a thoughtful expression. “And what’s going on with you, anyway? You’re looking awfully pale all of a sudden. Are you going to be sick again?”

“No,” Hal says, shaking his head, his fingernails digging painful shapes into the palms of his hands under the desk. “I’m not a serial killer, and I’m not sick. I wasn’t sick earlier, either. I…” He pauses, takes a deep, slightly shaky breath, his brain foggy and struggling to focus on anything but the irresistible smell all around him. His mouth opens again before he has any chance to stop it, and he says, “I’m a vampire.”

Louise stares at him in complete silence for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You… what now?” she says eventually, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t come in here to be ridiculed, you know. I’m going to find out the truth one way or another, and I don’t appreciate being made fun of in that w—”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Hal cuts in, trying to keep his voice as calm as he possibly can, but he is unable to control his fangs any longer, and he feels them break through his gums. He swallows thickly, opens his mouth so he has no doubt of her being able to see the two razor sharp tips, and says, “I’m telling the truth, Louise. I’m a vampire. And I have been for the last five hundred years.”

“Shut up,” she breathes. “So… so that’s why you killed those people. You… you’ve been… what? Drinking their blood?” She lets out another one of those small, disbelieving laughs.

Hal just looks at her with all the seriousness he can muster, and he slowly nods. “Yes,” he says. “And don’t worry, the… authorities are aware of it.”

Louise frowns. “You mean those clowns that came to see you earlier?” He nods, and she huffs. “Didn’t think they actually were police. It just all felt a bit… fishy to me. And the way they took you off to a different room. They didn’t bother to do that with me.”

“Yes,” Hal confirms. “They were… shall we say the ‘vampire police’. A secret government department that makes sure we don’t go over the top, and don’t leave too much of a mess behind.”

“Like with that woman,” Louise says, and he nods.

“Yes.”

Silence falls again for a long moment, and Hal watches Louise’s face go from thoughtfulness to disgust to fascination to horror, and finally she says, “You’ve just admitted to brutally killing two people.”

Hal swallows. “I suppose I have,” he says, looking down at his hands shaking in his lap. _No,_ he tells himself again. _Not here. Not now. It’s not safe. You can’t. You can’t._

“And you’re still… walking around a free man,” Louise continues, clearly unaware of his silent struggle.

Hal’s head snaps up to look at her. “I am indeed,” he says. “And I am very much trying not to let what happened with those two happen again, so please be careful what you say next.”

Louise’s eyes narrow, but not before Hal can see a genuine flash of fear passing through them. “Are you threatening me?” she asks, slightly breathlessly.

Hal shakes his head. “No. I’m merely asking you not to aggravate me, or I may not be held responsible for my actions.”

Louise snorts. “So that’s how it works, is it? You intimidate people into silence, and that’s how you’re able to keep you secret for… what was it? Five hundred years?”

“No,” Hal says again, nostrils flaring wildly as he feels every fibre of his body being drawn to her. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Louise. I think… I think maybe it’s best if you go now.”

“Or what?” she asks defiantly, and Hal takes another shaky breath, then regrets it immediately as his senses are overpowered by the scent of her blood.

“Or I might do something I’m going to regret very much,” he rasps out.

“Like, what? Drink my blood?” Louise says with a sigh and a small eye roll, the expression dying on her face a moment later when she meets Hal’s eyes.

“Yes, Louise,” he says. “Like drinking your blood. And I’m really not too far off now, so please, if you know what’s good for you—”

“Can you do it without killing me?” 

Hal stares at her with wide eyes, slowly shaking his head. “No,” he breathes, then realises what he has said, and adds, “I mean, you don’t know what you’re asking, Louise. You don’t… want to do this.”

She just keeps looking at him with big, curious eyes, a hint of a spark in them that he has seen way too many times not to recognise it immediately. “But if you’re not going to kill me,” she says. “Then what’s the harm?”

 _What indeed?_ a voice inside of Hal’s mind pipes up, and he knows he shouldn’t listen to that voice, it’s dangerous, it’s wrong, he can’t give in again like this, he can’t, not after everything that happened… But at that moment, another wave of hunger hits his gut, powerful like a hammer blow that smashes every last doubt in his mind, and in that moment, he can’t help but agree. What indeed.

“Okay,” he hears himself say, slowly rising from the chair behind the desk, just as he sees Louise do the same across from him. 

“Okay,” she echoes, standing somewhat awkwardly in the space between the desk and the chair, her eyes never leaving Hal as he slowly approaches her. “So… how does this work?” she asks quietly, forehead creasing. You just… bite my neck or something?”

“Yes,” Hal breathes, eyes homing in on the familiar spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder, and he allows himself to listen to her heartbeat now, the rhythmic pulsing of the blood through her veins, such a beautiful sound, but one that he has learned to carefully block out over the years. Now, the sound of it is deafening in his ears, and he can feel the very moment his eyes switch to black, the colours in the room shifting around him, and through the wall of noise, he can hear Louise let out a quiet gasp. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice as smooth as silk as he lifts a trembling hand up to touch the sacred spot on her neck. “It’s not going to hurt much.”

She laughs again, a high-pitched, nervous laugh this time. “You would say that.”

He quickly lifts his eyes to meet hers, sees her flinching slightly away from him, and he tries to put as much sincerity as he can into his voice when he says, “I’m not going to kill you, Louise. I’ll just take as much as I need to feel… safe again.”

He can see her swallowing compulsively a few times, before she nods and says, “All right. Let’s do this.”

And he leans in the rest of the way, resting his lips against the crook of her neck, and he feels her shiver under his touch, and she lets out a soft, slightly shaky sigh, which quickly turns into a gasp as he sinks his teeth into her skin. And then he stops thinking as his mind is flooded with one thought and one thought only. Her blood is the most delicious thing he has tasted since… well, since then, and he sucks and licks and gulps and repeats the process, forgetting everything else around him as there is only that taste, the taste that reminds him so much of him that it hurts, and slowly, slowly, he regains his awareness, and he realises that this is not him, this is wrong, this is _wrong,_ and he gathers all his remaining willpower to pull away, to break free. 

His mouth is covered in blood as he looks at her, sees the confused and slightly dazed expression in her eyes as she brings a hand up to the two small bite marks in her neck, stares at the red on her fingertips for a moment before she blinks up at him and quietly asks, “Hal?” 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, tongue slipping out to lick the blood away from his lips even as he backs steadily away from her. “I should never have done this. I’m sorry.”

And without waiting for an answer, he bolts from the room, all but runs through the dining room and the lobby towards the exit, where breaks into a full-on run, unaffected by the heavy, ice-cold raindrops hitting his face and body, and he doesn’t stop running until he makes it to the house. His eyes drift up to the door for a split second, before he shakes his head and unlocks the car instead, slipping heavily into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and starts driving, and there are no more booming heartbeats now, no sounds at all but the deep rumble of the engine and the squeak of the windscreen wipers against the glass. 

And he drives and drives without even having a clue where he is going, until the old Mercedes stutters its way down a narrow dirt road through the woods. He slows and parks the car in a small clearing, gets out and continues on foot. It is raining even heavier now, and the rain is soaking through his clothes and plastering his hair down against his forehead as he stumbles his way through the woods, shivering not from the cold but for a completely different reason entirely. He keeps walking until his eyes fall on a heavy steel door almost completely camouflaged against the greens and browns of the woods around it, and he slowly approaches it. 

He is only about ten yards away when there is a high pitched squeak and the tell-tale sound of metal moving against metal, just before the door swings open and a grey-clad figure emerges. Hal finds himself rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch as the figure turns around, and big blue eyes widen as they fall on him.

“Hal?” Dominic gasps, looking him up and down. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” Hal croaks, his voice barely obeying him, and he stumbles forward a couple of steps to close the distance between them.

“Here?” Dominic breathes, looking around them with a confused frown on his face.

Hal nods. “It’s where you are,” he says, only a couple of feet away from him now.

“Why—” Dominic starts, but never gets to finish the question as Hal launches himself at him, pushes him back against a nearby tree and brings both hands up to cup his face, looking deeply into his eyes. 

“Please help me,” he whispers.

“Hal?” Dominic asks, and his face darkens as he brings one hand up to cover Hal’s own against his face. “You’ve had blood,” he says. “I can feel the warmth in you. I can…” he pauses, and Hal eyes dart down to see his nostrils flaring, “I can smell it on you. What happened, Hal?”

“Please, Dominic,” Hal replies, their faces so close now they are almost breathing the same air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. But please, please help me,” he begs, before closing the gap between them and meeting Dominic’s lips in a hungry kiss. Dominic freezes for a moment, and Hal is about to pull away when he feels the hand that was covering his own snake in behind his neck, pulling him closer. Then Dominic is kissing him back, lips shifting against lips before Dominic sucks Hal’s bottom lip into his mouth, tongue swiping across it, searching for a remnant of a taste. There is a tiny noise escaping Dominic’s mouth then, something indescribable but so quintessentially _Dominic,_ and it makes Hal smile into the kiss as he feels his tension and anxiety ebb away for just a moment. But then Dominic freezes once more, and Hal feels strong hands push against his chest, bringing some distance between them. Dominic throws him a panicked look before his eyes dart around to take in their surroundings. 

“We can’t do this here, Hal,” he croaks, and Hal lets out a small, breathless laugh.

“Why? Because they might see us on the CCTV?”

“No,” Dominic says, frowning. “But someone might still… see,” he finishes, looking over towards the door, and Hal reluctantly nods.

“Okay,” he says, reaching out to grab hold of one of Dominic’s hands. “Let’s go further into the woods, then.”

“Hal, it’s raining,” Dominic points out, eyes flicking skywards before they meet Hal’s again, and there are tiny raindrops hanging in his long blond lashes.

Hal runs his free hand through Dominic’s soaked mop of hair. “So it is.”

“And you still haven’t told me what happened,” Dominic continues, and Hal averts his eyes to the leaf covered ground.

“I… I almost…” he pauses as he finds the familiar lie rolling off his tongue. It’s so much easier to lie. He swallows thickly, shakes his head, starts again. “No. I _did_ drink Louise’s blood, but—”

“Louise?” Dominic gasps. 

“—but I stopped myself,” Hal continues, lifting his eyes again to look into Dominic’s. “I stopped myself, and I ran away. She’s fine. But I… I need some help,” he says, just as a violent shiver runs through him again. “I need… some blood. Please, can I…?” he drifts off again, his eyes pointing to the spot on Dominic’s neck where he knows there are two smooth white circular scars under his shirt collar.

Dominic throws him an uncertain look. “I thought vampire blood isn’t any good to you?” he asks hesitantly.

Hal swallows and gives him a small, broken smile. “It’s better than nothing,” he says. “It’s better than killing again.”

Dominic looks at him for the longest moment, raindrops running like small rivers down his face, before he slowly nods and says, “All right. But not here.”

“No,” Hal agrees, shaking his head and pulling on the hand still held in his own. Dominic sighs, but allows him to lead him further into the woods, away from any potential prying eyes. Then he pushes Dominic back up against another tree and quickly brings up both hands to undo his tie and shirt buttons. He can feel Dominic’s breath speeding up under his fingertips, and he looks up to see fiery blue eyes staring back at him. 

“Go on then,” Dominic says, definitely breathless, and Hal throws him a smile that perfectly shows off his fangs before he leans in and sinks them into Dominic’s neck. There is something even about the specific tautness of Dominic’s skin that feels familiar, that feels different compared to Louise’s a short while before, and it makes him feel warm and comfortable and loved in a way that nothing else can, even as the blood flowing into his mouth is cool and stale and tasteless, a cruel reminder of the sacrifices they _both_ had to make to keep Dominic alive. But there is no time for regrets now, as Dominic’s blood continues to flow into his mouth, and he drinks greedily, ceaselessly, until he feels strong hands push against him once more, and he stumbles a couple of feet backwards, catching his balance as his vision blurs from the combined influx of the human and vampire blood into his system. 

Dominic’s eyebrows lift up, and there is a small smile tugging at his lips as he says, “Good to know I can still get you drunk anyway.”

“I’m not drunk,” Hal says with as much conviction as he can get into those three words, and in hindsight, perhaps it was a little bit too much as Dominic chuckles quietly in reply. 

“Of course not.”

“I’m not,” Hal says, frowning and shaking his head. 

Dominic huffs. “Wait here,” he says, as his hands come up to do up his shirt and tie again. “I’ll just… have to go grab something. I’ll be right back.” 

Hal’s eyes follow Dominic as he weaves his way back through the trees towards the bunker entrance, and he can just make out the faint squeak of the door opening and closing. His legs feel shaky underneath him as he is overcome with a sudden bout of tiredness, and he feels himself slide down the length of the tree trunk behind him until he is sitting in the wet leaves covering the ground. There is a little voice inside his head that is warning him about his suit getting ruined, but he just can’t get himself to care right now. So he sits and he waits for several long minutes, until soft footsteps in the leaves make him look up again. His eyes struggle to focus on Dominic, who is walking towards him with what looks like a cardboard box in his hands. He carries the box with a caution that Hal initially mistakes for reverence, but as he comes closer, he recognises that it is pure, naked fear. 

Putting the box down on the wet ground next to Hal, Dominic takes a quick step back, gulps in a deep breath and says, “I thought you could probably do with those. I know you’ve been getting through them quicker than anticipated.”

Hal’s eyes fall down on at least a dozen filled blood flasks neatly stashed in the open box, and his throat constricts as he glances back up at Dominic, who is careful to look anywhere but at the box in front of him.

“You… went into the blood storage room to get those for me?” Hal asks, astonished.

Dominic clears his throat. “Well… no, not exactly,” he says. “There is no way in hell I would ever set foot in that room, Hal. Not even for you.” 

“Then how…?” Hal asks, and Dominic lets out a breathless laugh.

“I… got Arthur to do it for me. Long story,” he adds, and Hal’s brow creases, but he decides to let it go for now. 

“Thank you,” he says, smiling up at Dominic, whose eyes flick down to him for a short moment, before they drift across to the box again as if on autopilot, and he quickly looks away. Hal clears his throat. “You know, perhaps you really should try—”

“No, Hal,” Dominic says firmly, eyes fixed on the tree trunk above him. “I’m not going to consciously make myself into a junkie.”

Hal looks up at him for a long moment, a frown building on his face. “But don’t you see, Dominic,” he says eventually. “You already are.”

Dominic’s eyes dart down to him again. “What?” he whispers, and Hal sighs.

“You already are a junkie,” he repeats. “You didn’t make yourself into one. I did, and I’m so sorry, Dominic. But it is what it is, and it’s in your nature. The addiction is not separate from you, it’s not something you can ever run away from, because believe me, it will catch up, and it will find you.” He lets out a small, humourless laugh. “It will always find you.”

He looks up at Dominic, meets his bright blue eyes with his own, and for a long moment, neither of them speaks. Then Dominic slowly shakes his head. “No, Hal. Just…no.” He stares off into the distance, in the vague direction of the car park, and adds, “Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

“Dominic,” Hal says, but is met with a sharp gaze and an even sharper shake of the head, and he sighs and says, “Okay.” 

Before he has even fully finished speaking, Dominic has turned around and started walking in the direction of the clearing, and Hal quickly struggles to his feet and grabs the box off the floor before he follows him back through the woods and towards his car. 

Dominic holds out his hand expectantly, and when Hal only stands and stares at him for a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh and says, “Keys?”

“Oh,” says Hal, rummaging in his pocket for a moment before dropping the key into Dominic’s outstretched hand. Then a frown settles on his face as he asks, “But what about your car?”

“What about it?” Dominic asks, shrugging. “You are clearly in no fit state to drive, and we can’t exactly leave _this_ car here. So I’ll just get a cab to work tomorrow morning, tell them the car didn’t start. No big deal.”

“You’re amazing,” Hal says, smiling, as he slides into the passenger’s seat.

“And you’re drunk. You might not think I’m quite so amazing in the morning,” Dominic huffs, sitting down in the driver’s seat next to him.

Hal looks over towards him, lets his arm drop into Dominic’s lap. “There. Perhaps we can both be drunk together.”

Dominic’s eyes flick down to the offered wrist, before coming back up to his face, and his eyebrows almost reach his hairline as he says, “No, Hal.”

“But—”

“No,” Dominic repeats. “I’m going to drive you home now and get you into bed, and tomorrow, I’m going to talk to the other one.”

Hal looks out the window for a moment as Dominic gets the car on the road, before he turns back around to him. “Are you going to stay with me tonight?” he asks, more hopeful than he knows he probably should be.

“That’s still a no, Hal,” Dominic says, shaking his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You were right. I’m still here because I love you. But that doesn’t mean I really want to be around you much at the moment.”

“You didn’t seem to mind so much when you were kissing me earlier,” Hal says bitterly, surprised at the magnitude of the sudden, violent tightness in his chest.

Dominic shakes his head. “That’s not… I wasn’t… thinking straight,” he finishes, and Hal can see his Adam’s apple rising and falling rapidly.

“Clearly,” he replies, turning away again.

“Hal—”

“Don’t worry. I understand,” Hal says in a hollow voice, as he watches the raindrops run down the passenger window. 


	26. An Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, guys!

Would you butcher my love  
To understand it  
To know where it lies  
Cut a hole in my heart  
Fill a hole in your life  
I'm yours to dissect now 

\- Editors, “Formaldehyde”

 

Dominic takes one last look at the slumbering form of Hal on the bed, looking so young and innocent in his sleep. With a heavy heart and a sigh, he shuts the bedroom door behind him, turns around, and almost jumps out of his skin as he is faced with Tom and Alex standing right in front of him, throwing him almost identical, quizzical looks.

He lifts his eyebrows at them in a silent question, and Tom asks, “Is Hal all righ’?” at the same time as Alex blurts, “He’s done it again, hasn’t he?”

As soon as the words have left Alex’s mouth, Tom whirls around to her, his brow furrowing. “Has done wha’ again, Alex?”

“Er…” Alex starts, then looks helplessly at Dominic, who swallows thickly as his gaze wanders back and forth between them for a moment, before he glances back at the closed bedroom door.

“Not here,” he says quickly and steps past the two of them towards the staircase. He doesn’t stop until he is standing in the middle of the living room, where he turns around to them again and fixes his eyes on Tom. “He’s fine,” he says. “Or at least, he will be.” 

“What’s ‘e done?” Tom asks. “I mean, I know ya guys had a fight ‘bout summat, dunno what that was about but I thought I wouldn’t get involved since it’s none of me business, like.” He shrugs, then his face darkens. “But this is ‘bout somethin’ different, innit?”

“I’m… not sure it’s my place to say,” Dominic says slowly, looking up startled as Alex snorts loudly.

“Well, it wasn’t really your place to tell me about Jamie,” she points out. 

“That’s different,” Dominic replies. “You knew him.”

“Yeah, well, I still think that Tom has a right to know,” she argues, big eyes boring into him. “As do I, for that matter.”

“Know what, guys?” Tom asks urgently. “What’s goin’ on? An’ who the hell is Jamie?”

Dominic takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, looks over at Alex again, who nods encouragingly at him. Then he drops his gaze to the floor in front of him and quietly says, “He’s killed someone.”

“Wha’? Again?” Tom spits out, a deep frown on his face.

Dominic sighs and nods. “Yes, Tom. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Tom says sourly, even as his face contorts in disgust at the news. 

“So he has done it again?” Alex asks Dominic, and he quickly shakes his head. 

“No, not… not this time. I mean, he… drank someone’s blood, but he ran away. Or so he tells me.” He lets his eyes wander in the direction of the staircase for a moment, before he looks back at the werewolf and the ghost, and continues, “But I did find out today about another person he killed, a few weeks ago.”

He doesn’t miss the sudden look of alarm that passes Alex’s face. “You did?” she asks, but her words are almost completely drowned out by Tom’s raised voice as he barks, “ _Another_ person? So ya both knew ‘bout this first person and neither of ya bothered to tell me nowt ‘bout it?”

“I’m sorry, Tom, I—”

“Fuckin’ vampire arsehole,” Tom grumbles, narrowing his eyes at him. “I knew I couldn’t trust ya, what with the whole thing with Tasha an’ all. An’ I guess vampires are always gonna stick together, aren’t ya. But you,” he adds, looking across at Alex. “I woulda expected better of ya, Alex. I thought we were friends.”

“We are!” Alex says quickly, nodding. “I guess I thought that Hal would... I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I’m hearin’ tha’ a lot,” Tom cuts in, looking back and forth between them. “Ya know wha’? You go on excusin’ ‘is behaviour and coverin’ up for ‘im all ya want, but I’m out. I got a family to think ‘bout now, an’ I can’t risk me son growin’ up ‘round a fuckin’ psycho like ‘im.”

“He’s not a ’psycho’,” Dominic says immediately, but Alex gives him a thoughtful look. 

“He does have a point, Dominic.” 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Dominic replies, shaking his head.

“Looks pretty simple to me,” Tom mutters under his breath, and Dominic shakes his head harder.

“No, Tom, it’s… it wasn’t…” He takes a deep breath, “He wasn’t strictly _himself_ when he killed those people.”

“Whaddaya mean, _not himself_?” Tom asks, furrowing his brow. “So he’s bad Hal again, is that what yer sayin’?”

Dominic frowns. “He… what?”

Alex sighs. “It’s what we kinda called Hal when he first… you know.”

“Switched,” Dominic says. “To the other Hal.” 

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, nodding. 

“So, is he?” Tom asks.

“No. Not… exactly,” Dominic explains. “It’s more complicated than that. But from what Hal tells me, he – the other Hal – took over temporarily when he killed those people, and he wasn’t aware of it until after it happened.”

Tom looks at him for a long moment, then his face darkens again and he shakes his head. “Nah, I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“But Tom, think about it,” Alex jumps in. “It does make sense. You’ve seen him switch right in front of your eyes, you know it’s real.”

“Yer right, I’ve seen ‘im do it,” Tom replies. “But that don’t mean it’s real.”

Alex’s eyes widen. “What, you think he’s faking it?”

Tom shrugs. “I dunno, mate. I dunno what to think. I just can’t stand by an’ watch ‘im kill even more people, it don’t matter what excuse he comes up with next time.”

“He’s not faking it,” Dominic says with conviction, and two pairs of eyes fall on him at once.

“How can ya be so sure ‘bout that?” Tom asks, and Dominic gives him a small, sad smile, while his thoughts wander back to the previous night, and to Henry.

“I just know.”

Silence falls for a long moment, before Alex quietly says, “Maybe you’re right, Dominic. Maybe we should give him another chance.”

“How many chances have we already given ‘im, Alex?” Tom retorts. “Don’t ya think that enough is enough at some point?”

“But he is trying to change,” Dominic says, giving them both a significant look. “He didn’t kill that girl today, even though he easily could’ve. He stopped himself, and he came to me instead to ask for help. He is trying to stop. He is trying to get better, but he will need all of our support if he wants to have any chance at all to succeed. Especially yours, Tom,” he finishes, eyes boring into the young werewolf’s. 

Tom frowns. “Why me?”

Dominic holds his gaze for a long moment. “Because you’re his best friend,” he says eventually. “You’re his ‘new Leo’, aren’t you?” he asks, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Tom snorts. 

“He told ya ‘bout that?” Tom asks darkly, but there is a slight softness to his voice now, and Dominic’s smile widens.

“He did.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all great an’ good, ’cept that Leo was actually able to keep ‘im from havin’ any blood at all,” Tom says, shrugging. “But he’s still havin’ them flasks, inne?”

Dominic swallows down the sudden flare of hunger at the mere mention of the flasks, and he quickly looks over at Alex. “There’s a box in the boot of the car,” he says. “I’d be grateful if you could… keep it safe for him.”

Alex looks blankly at him for a moment, before the penny drops and she quickly nods. “Of course.”

Then Dominic turns back towards Tom and continues, “I know it’s difficult. I…” he drifts off, huffs, “I didn’t think that I would be in this situation, either. I’ve only been a vampire for a little over a month, and here I am, taking care of Hal. I thought if anything it was going to be the other way around.” A sad smile passes across his face for a moment. “But it turns out I’m actually better able to control myself than I ever thought possible, and I can only imagine how much worse it must be for him. So I will do everything within my power to help him through this, but I’m not you, Tom. I think… I think he could do with a friend like you right about now.”

Tom looks down at his feet for a long moment, a deep crease in his brow, before he looks back up at Dominic and asks, “To do wha’, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Dominic says with a small shrug. “Whatever it is that you used to do. Give him things to do. Distract him.”

“I thought that was your job now,” Tom replies instantly, the tiniest of hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Dominic blushes.

“I… didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbles, even as Alex snickers next to him, and Tom lets out a quiet laugh.

“I know, mate. I was teasin’ ya.”

Dominic huffs. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Tom says, a glint in his eyes, and Dominic can’t help but give the werewolf a small smile. 

“Seriously though,” he says quietly after a moment. “Could you… could you do that for him, Tom?”

The smile vanishes from Tom’s face as quickly as it appeared, and he gives Dominic a thoughtful look. Then he slowly nods and says, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Dominic says, smiling.

“Jus’ don’t make me regret it, mate,” Tom says, and Dominic swallows and nods.

“It’ll all work out,” he says. “I’m sure of it.”

***

Lying on his back in the narrow single bed in the guest room, Dominic’s eyes wander across the dim shadows dancing across the ceiling, while his right index finger idly traces the ridgy outline of the circular pendant resting in the space between his collarbones. 

He lets his mind wander back to the night, nearly a month ago now, when Hal first gave him the pendant. The ouroboros symbolises unity, and eternity, Hal said. In the moment, the words sounded almost like a promise from Hal. You and me, for all eternity, they whispered to him. Dominic huffs quietly as he thinks that even then, there was someone else. A treacherous tightness spreads across his chest, and his fist closes tightly around the pendant, the dragon’s wings digging painfully into his palm.

With a sigh, he turns over onto his side, in this bed that feels so empty and cold and _too small_ , and tries his very best to block out the quiet, even breaths he can hear drifting in from the next room. And despite what his broken heart might tell him, and despite what he said to Hal earlier this very day, the truth is that he misses him like crazy. 

His phone vibrating on the bedside table startles him from his thoughts, and he quickly reaches out and squints at the screen, frowning as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“Tasha?” 

“Hey there,” Tasha replies quietly, hesitantly, in that way that she now has of talking to him without knowing how to talk to him anymore. “I… just wanted to check how you are.”

He sighs and says, “I’m all right, Tasha, thank you. How are you?”

She lets out a quiet laugh on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine. Big. I feel like a walrus.” She laughs again, a little bit louder, and he can’t help but join in.

“I take it you haven’t got long to go now,” he says, and she groans.

“That’s what I hope, anyway. I mean, I’m waddling more than walking, and my work uniform is so tight that I can barely breathe. But what with all the dates being fucked up, who knows when I’m actually due?” 

Dominic smiles to himself. “I can’t believe you and Tom are actually going to have a baby.”

“I know, right?” she replies. “Neither can I, most of the time. Then I see a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I think, oh, yeah, there’s definitely something there.” They share another quiet laugh, before the line goes silent for a long moment. Then Natasha says, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dominic frowns. “Yes, Tasha, I’m fine. Why are you—”

“Louise told me about—” she blurts out, then stops herself mid-sentence, and Dominic tenses involuntarily.

“Listen, Tasha, he lost control, he didn’t mean to do it, and he stopped himself, didn’t h—”

“What?” Tasha interrupts, and Dominic’s frown deepens.

“What… was it you were talking about?” he asks carefully. “What did Louise tell you?”

“Dominic, what’s going on?” Tasha asks back immediately. “What do you mean, he lost control, but he stopped himself? What has he done now?”

“Tasha, please just answer my question first,” Dominic says, a little bit firmer than perhaps necessary, and he can hear her sigh deeply on the other end.

“All right. She… she told me about… what she told you. About that guy who got killed. And, adding two and two together, I just… I wanted to make sure that you’re okay, that’s all.”

Dominic sighs deeply. “Thank you, Tasha. I’m fine. I… Hal and I have a few things to work out, that’s all.”

“Did he do it, Dominic?” she asks quietly.

Dominic hesitates for a long moment, before he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “Yes, Tasha, he did.”

Tasha snorts. “And… what? You’re just going to let him get away with it? Again?”

Dominic swallows down the lump forming in his throat. “Tasha, please, just… let me sort this out, okay? There’s a lot about this – about _him_ – that you don’t understand, and he just needs to be given a chance, all right?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “God, Dominic, I was really hoping that turning into a vampire wouldn’t change you, but look at you. So your bloodsucking boyfriend killed a person? No problem, you just misuse your position to cover it up.”

“Tasha—”

“I bet you wouldn’t have been so forgiving if he had actually slept with him,” she continues, and Dominic feels a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. 

“He did, Tasha.”

There is a stunned silence on the other end for a long moment, before Tasha says, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Dominic laughs humourlessly. “Thank you. Like I said already, we have to work some things out.”

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes. “When are you finally going to come to your senses about him, Dominic? You deserve so much better than him.”

Dominic lets out another husky laugh and shakes his head. “Well, perhaps I did once, but certainly not now.”

There is a beat of silence, before she asks, “Why? Because you’re a vampire?”

Dominic smiles grimly. “Yes, Tasha. Because I’m a vampire. I don’t deserve anything or anyone now. I don’t even deserve to exist now.”

Tasha lets out a quiet, strangled sound on the other end, but doesn’t reply, and slowly, Dominic’s brain catches up with what he has just said. 

“I-I’m sorry, Tasha, I shouldn’t have—”

“Is that really how you feel?” she asks in a voice that is barely more than a whisper.

Dominic lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes. “Like I said, Tasha, I’m sorry. I… forgot myself. I didn’t mean to say what I did.”

“Yeah, except that you’re a shit liar, Dominic, you know that?” she replies, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Only to you and my grandmother,” he says, a sad smile forming on his lips as he remembers his grandmother’s ghost standing in front of him in a fluffy white dressing gown. 

Tasha sounds slightly bewildered when she replies, “Yeah, well, still, doesn’t change the fact that you are. I just…” she pauses, takes a deep breath. “What I mean to say is, you can always talk to me, all right? Whether it’s about Hal or about… you know… being a vampire or whatever. Just… call me, okay?”

“Thank you, Tasha,” Dominic says, and he feels a surge of warmth spreading through his chest. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “The same goes for you, just so you know. Except when it comes to baby things. I don’t really know an awful lot about that.”

“Yeah, because I’m such an expert on vampires,” she huffs, and he laughs. 

“I guess you have a point.”

There is another long moment of silence, before Tasha says, “I meant what I said earlier, you know. You really do deserve better than him.”

The tightness is back in his chest in an instant, clenching like an iron first around his silent heart, and he feels his eyes sting, so he quickly shuts them. “I wouldn’t want anyone else, Tasha,” he says in a voice so quiet that he is unsure she even heard him.

But she did, and he can hear her swallowing loudly on the other end. “I know,” she replies. “I’ve known that for a long time. I just… won’t give up hope that one day you’ll come to your senses.”

“And I won’t give up hope that one day you’ll learn to accept him.”

Tasha sighs. “Yeah. Maybe, one day. As long as he doesn’t fuck up again.”

“Let’s all hope that he doesn’t,” Dominic says seriously. “And that I don’t, either.”

“You haven’t…?” she asks hesitantly.

“No, Tasha, I haven’t,” he says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t meant that I haven’t wanted to, though. It’s… harder than you think.”

“Yeah, I… get that,” she says slowly. “Just… stay strong, Dominic, okay?”

He smiles grimly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask for,” she replies, and neither of them speaks for a moment. “Listen,” she says eventually, “I should probably get some sleep. Working tomorrow, so... I’ll speak to you soon okay?”

“Of course, Tasha,” he replies. “And thank you.”

“Yeah, all right,” she says, a little too quickly. “Sleep well, Dominic.”

“You too, Tasha,” he breathes, before he ends the call and puts the phone back down on the bedside table. He lets his head fall back on the pillow with a heavy sigh and waits for a long moment for the tightness in his chest to go away. But it stays stubbornly put, that relentless grip around his heart, and to make matters worse, a fresh wave of hunger surges through his gut, spreading from his solar plexus into every distant fibre of his body, demanding to be heard. Squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw, he waits for this feeling too to subside, but it only gets stronger the longer he waits, with a reminder of that sweetest of flavours he tasted on Hal’s lips earlier, so faint it was almost not there at all, but still so powerful that it made his head spin all the same. 

Before he knows it, his right wrist is in his mouth and he firmly bites down, a sharp pain accompanied by a familiar shiver travelling up his arm as the blood flows into his mouth. He might hate what he has become as much as he wants, but he can’t deny the immediate, calming effect of it, the way it quietens the hunger and lifts the heavy force away from his chest, and he takes a deep breath in through his nose as his lungs expand. 

After taking another few desperate gulps, he finally lets his wrist fall away from his mouth and onto the mattress next to him, and he licks the remaining blood away from his lips. His lids are already starting to feel heavy, and he rolls over onto his side and allows his eyes to slip closed. There is a faint buzz coursing through his body, right under his skin, and he lets it envelope him like a warm, comforting blanket, staving off the cold and the loneliness and the unfamiliar old knotty mattress digging into his hip as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

***

A loud knock on the door wakes Dominic well before his alarm goes off, and his heart jumps into his throat as he blinks his tired eyes open and glances over towards the door.

There it is again, the knock, but this time accompanied by a sigh and a “Dominic.”

It is Hal’s voice, but not. Even after all this time, Dominic immediately recognises the sound, and it makes an ice cold shiver run down his spine.

“Hal?” he asks hesitantly in the direction of the still closed door. Instantly the door flies open, and Hal is standing in the doorway, giving him a look that is somewhere between curious amusement and exasperation.

“You wanted to talk?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows at Dominic, who quickly squints at his phone screen before frowning back up at Hal.

“Not at five in the morning, Hal,” he croaks, slowly pushing himself up on his elbows 

“Well, you see, I, for some reason, have been asleep since sometime late afternoon yesterday,” Hal says, giving him a meaningful look. “So, as you can imagine, I’m pretty well rested by now.”

Dominic can’t find the right words to say in reply, his brain still sluggish with blood and sleep, and all he can do is watch Hal slowly ambling into the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

“And I thought at least this way we have half a chance to talk without being interrupted by the dog or that nosy ghost,” Hal continues, and Dominic’s face darkens.

“You mean Tom and Alex?” he asks icily.

Hal sighs. “Yes, I suppose, whatever you want to call them.”

“Hal!” Dominic retorts immediately. “Have some respect.”

Hal barks out a laugh. “Says the man who used to lock us up for a living.”

Dominic feels a jolt running through him at the words, and he narrows his eyes at Hal. “That was a long time ago, Hal. A lot of things have changed since then.” 

“Indeed,” Hal says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Nowadays you seem to do everything within your power _not_ to lock me up.”

“Believe me,” Dominic shoots back, “if there was a way of separating you from the other two, I would lock you up in a heartbeat.”

“Ooh, Dominic, you’ve changed your tune,” Hal says. “I remember a time you were all too happy keeping both of us around.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Dominic in a suggestive way, and despite himself, Dominic feels a treacherous heat creeping into his cheeks.

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you went off with a pretty young human,” Dominic says bitterly, dropping his gaze down to his hands, and he can hear Hal sighing from where he is standing by the bottom of the bed. 

“Dominic—”

“Don’t ‘Dominic’ me like I’m a child,” he cuts in, raising his eyes back up at Hal, who is giving him a long-suffering look. Dominic shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You stride in here at fucking _five_ in the morning, like there isn’t a _reason_ I’m sleeping in this room in the first place—”

“You _asked_ to speak to me.”

“—and the first thing you do is to insult your friends—”

“Not my friends,” Hal interrupts again. “ _His_ friends.”

Dominic looks at him in silence for a moment, takes in the way he carries himself, the set of his jaw, the stony coldness in his hazel eyes – all tell-tale signs that this is well and truly the _other_ Hal. “But that’s exactly the point, Hal, don’t you see?” he says wearily. “The two of you are doing so much, are fighting so hard to keep yourselves separate from each other, when really, you should be doing the opposite.”

This makes Hal stop in his tracks, and he throws Dominic an astonished look. “You want us to do what?”

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything, Hal,” Dominic corrects. “I just feel that…” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “It’s important, if we want this relationship to succeed, that we are all open and honest with each other at all times. No more secrets. No more going off with pretty young men and women behind both our backs just because you can, because you managed to… hijack the body for a couple of hours.”

Hal snorts. “I’m hardly ‘hijacking’ the body if it’s my body to begin with,” he says, and Dominic sighs.

“What I’m trying to say is that in order to be more open with each other, you should at least _try_ to work together, rather than wage this constant internal war against each other.” He looks at Hal with big eyes, and is met with the other’s sceptical gaze as he seems to consider Dominic’s words.

Eventually, Hal lets out a long-suffering sigh and says, “Even if I did agree to this, I’ve known the other one for long enough to know that he never would.”

“Well, why don’t you ask him?” Dominic suggests, giving Hal a curious look. 

Hal shakes his head. “He’s not… exactly… around right now,” he says slowly. “I took the opportunity of finding him asleep, but I’m sure if I tried to connect to him now he would take over again in an instant.”

“He knows I wanted to talk to y—” Dominic starts, then breaks off mid-word as he watches Hal freeze in front of him, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, before he frantically starts to shake his head.

“No, Dominic,” he says, eyes flying open. They’re their usual warm hazel again, and Dominic’s own eyes widen. “Don’t you see?” Hal continues, walking over and sitting down on the mattress next to Dominic. “The only reason he would agree to something like this is so he can gain more power, so he can take over again. If I allowed him to be in my head constantly like… like it was after you rescued me from hell, I… would end up losing control altogether. It’s just what he wants, Dominic, and we can’t allow him to have it.”

Dominic shakes his head. “Hal, listen. Did you hear what I said to him earlier? About being honest with each other?” 

Hal looks at him uncertainly for a moment, before he quickly shakes his head. “No, but I think I get the drift,” he says. “You think that we need to _cooperate_ more, to grow closer together rather than further apart.”

“Exactly,” Dominic says, nodding, and he reaches out a hand to take hold of Hal’s. 

Hal’s eyes flick down to their joint hands for a moment before he looks back up at Dominic. “I’m sorry, Dominic,” he says, hazel eyes pleading as they bore into his own. “I can’t allow myself – can’t allow _him_ – to do that.”

Dominic lets out a frustrated sigh. “Hal—”

But once again he doesn’t get to finish what he was about to say, as he watches Hal switching in front of his eyes again, and he gives Dominic an exasperated look. “Didn’t I tell you he wouldn’t listen?” he asks, then looks down as if he is only now noticing his left hand intertwined with Dominic’s on the duvet, and he runs his thumb across the back of Dominic’s hand, then looks back up at him with a small smile playing on his lips. “Mmh, Dominic, in all honesty, I don’t know why you put up with him. His only goal in life seems to be to make himself as miserable as possible. I mean, where is the fun in that?”

Dominic gives him a wide-eyed look. “Oh, we have plenty of fun, I assure you.”

The smile on Hal’s lips widens. “Dominic,” he says again, in that way that only _he_ can, that makes his name sound as smooth as a caress. “You’re his most heavily guarded treasure, you know that?” Hal continues, his thumb running up and down Dominic’s hand again. “One reason why I ended up… doing what I did… was that he basically forbade me any contact with you, after you’d been—” He breaks off, eyes darting down to their joint hands again, and they widen momentarily, an odd glint in them as he runs the pad of his thumb across the mostly healed bite marks from a few hours ago. “Tsk tsk tsk, Dominic,” he says, and meets Dominic’s eyes with his own once more. “And here I was thinking you were actually succeeding with your foolish plan not to drink blood.”

Dominic feels a lump rising into his throat. “Does it even really count if it’s your own?” he asks quietly. 

“I’ve got to say, I’m not sure,” Hal says, his forehead creasing as he carefully regards Dominic. Then he slowly shakes his head and lets out a quiet laugh. “Trust you to find some completely new way to fuck with what it means to be a vampire.”

“I never asked to be a vampire,” Dominic says bitterly.

Hal sighs. “Where have I heard that before?” he mutters under his breath, and Dominic’s eyes narrow. 

“I don’t know, Hal. Where _have_ you heard that before? One of your countless previous recruits that you turned into monsters against their will?”

Hal’s eyebrows lift almost to his hairline. “I didn’t do this, Dominic.”

Dominic’s eyes pierce right into Hal’s for a long moment, before he shakes his head and says, “No, I suppose not. Just like _he_ didn’t cheat on me, did he?” He suddenly notices Hal’s hand still encircling his wrist, and he pulls it back and cradles it in his other hand, never taking his eyes off Hal. “It’s so easy for you to weasel your way out of any kind of responsibility, isn’t it. Just blame it on the other one and be done with it. But life doesn’t work that way, Hal. You have to start taking some fucking responsibility for what you’ve done, both of you, or this is not going to work out.”

Hal snorts. “You make it sound like you’ve never made a single mistake in your life,” he retorts. “Do I really need to remind you about what happened with Carl?”

Dominic freezes, a large lump jumping into his throat. “No, Hal, you don’t,” he says, and swallows thickly. “I still feel responsible for his death every single day without your reminder. And before you say it,” he adds, holding up one hand as Hal opens his mouth to respond, “I know that’s not what you were talking about, and yes, I feel bad about what I did, but let’s put things into perspective, shall we? It was _one kiss_ , not ‘we dated on and off for a month’.”

Hal chuckles. “Is that what he told you?”

“Yes, Hal, that’s what he told me. And don’t even think about trying to tell me he exaggerated,” He pauses, lets out a quiet, humourless laugh of his own. “He actually fucking cared about you, you know that? I think that’s what’s getting to me the most. You actually made him care about you.” He averts his eyes, no longer able to take in the cold indifference in Hal’s gaze.

The more surprised is he to hear Hal’s voice sounding unusually subdued when he says, “I didn’t _make_ him do anything, Dominic.” He reaches out a hand then, curls his index finger underneath Dominic’s chin, makes him look back up at him again. “Just like I’m not making you want to kiss me right now, but I can see it in your eyes that you do.”

“Oh yes?” Dominic asks, looking defiantly back at him, even as Hal leans in closer, the tantalising smell of fresh blood still lingering on his breath, and it draws him in, almost too powerful to resist.

“Yes,” Hal whispers, closing the gap between them, and Dominic feels his soft lips just barely brushing against his own before he pulls away and scoots back a few inches on the bed. 

“Except,” he says, trying and most likely failing to hide his breathlessness, “that there is one important difference between you and me.”

“And what’s that?” Hal asks, doing his best to sound neutral, but Dominic could swear there is the tiniest hint of irritation in his voice.

He smiles and says, “I have self-control.”

Hal huffs out a laugh. “Indeed. That’s why you self-harm rather than just give in to the inevitable urge, is it?” he spits out, eyes darting down to Dominic’s wrist.

Dominic pulls his arm closer against his body and says, “That’s not what this is.”

“No, of course not,” Hal says with an unbearably smug smile and a shake of his head. “As I told you only yesterday, Dominic, there is no point in running away from it. It will find you eventually.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “ _You_ said that?”

“Well, technically,” Hal drawls, “ _he_ was the one that actually spoke the words. But I… put them into his head, if you see what I mean.”

Dominic swallows. “I think so,” he replies slowly. “So he was right. You were… more present in his mind yesterday, since—”

“Yes,” Hal says quickly, and Dominic’s eyes narrow again.

“Okay,” he continues, choosing to ignore the interruption, for now. “So, right now, is he present in your mind, as well?”

Hal opens his mouth to reply, then freezes and stares blankly at him for a moment, before he gives him an urgent look and says, “Yes, Dominic, I was. And I know what you’re trying to do, but my answer is still no.”

Dominic sighs. “Hal, please, why do you have to be so obstructive? Do you not see that it was your very attempt to banish him from your mind that led us right into this mess?” Hal looks back at him for the longest moment, silently pleading with him, and Dominic averts his eyes. “Don’t, Hal, please. All I want from you is an agreement that you’re going to _try_ and work together. Be more aware of each other. Communicate. Is that really too much to ask?”

“Yes,” Hal says, and Dominic looks back up at him to find him frantically nodding. “Dominic, you don’t know what you’re asking of me. I… I can’t possibly… I…”

“What does Henry think?” Dominic asks then, and Hal’s eyes widen.

“What?” 

“It’s only fair that he gets a say in this as well, isn’t it?” Dominic asks, giving Hal a significant look. “You’re saying no, he’s saying yes—”

“This is not a fucking democracy, Dominic!” Hal snaps, jumping to his feet.

“Well perhaps it should be!” Dominic shoots back immediately, standing up as well, and Hal gives him an incredulous look.

“You clearly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, and you do?” Dominic asks, taking a step towards him, sharp blue eyes piercing straight into Hal’s. “Because I’m starting to get the feeling that you don’t really understand this any better than I do, Hal, and the reason you try to keep them both as far away from you as possible is because you’re scared of them.”

“You’ve seen what the other one is capable of, Dominic, of course I’m scared,” Hal says, holding his gaze. “Can you really blame me for that?”

Dominic sighs deeply. “No,” he says. “I can’t. But that’s not what I was talking about, and you know that as well as I do.”

Hal lets his eyes wander off to the far end of the room. “So what do you suggest?” he asks after a moment, all fight seemingly having left him.

“Ask Henry what he wants,” Dominic repeats, and Hal’s eyes dart over to him again.

“He’s… not here,” he says quietly.

“Can you reach him?” Dominic asks, and Hal takes a deep breath.

“I can try.” He closes his eyes, a look of deep concentration on his face. After a moment, a frown passes over his face, and, without opening his eyes, he says, “He doesn’t want me to talk to him.”

“Why not?” Dominic asks quietly, and Hal shakes his head.

“He doesn’t think he should be involved, because it doesn’t concern him.”

“But it does, doesn’t it?” Dominic asks. 

Hal’s frown deepens. “I… suppose. But like I said, Dominic, he doesn’t even know that we’re... what we are,” he says, and Dominic sighs.

“Don’t you think maybe he deserves to know?”

Hal is silent for a long moment, and Dominic can see his Adam’s apple rising and falling rapidly a few times. “I’m not sure, Dominic. I…” he drifts off then, the look of concentration back on his face, before, suddenly, his eyes fly open, wide and scared like a rabbit in a headlight. 

“H—” is all Dominic manages to get out, before Hal’s eyes close again, he blinks a few times, and looks back at Dominic with his familiar, warm hazel gaze.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes flicking down to the floor. “He…” he breaks off, clears his throat loudly. “He wants us to try.”

Dominic feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, in that case…”

“This is still not a democracy,” Hal says, sounding more than a little exasperated, but when his eyes fall on the smile on Dominic’s face, he sighs deeply and says, “But I suppose there’s no real harm in _trying_.”

Dominic’s smile widens. “That’s all I’m asking, Hal,” he says, before he takes another couple of steps towards Hal, snakes a hand around his neck, pulls him towards him and presses his lips to Hal’s in a slow, gentle, lingering kiss. He can feel Hal’s mouth following him as he pulls away, chasing his lips, asking for more, so he leans in for one more fleeting kiss, merely a touch of lips against lips, before he pulls away in earnest.

Hal’s eyes flutter open, and he gives Dominic a teasing smile. “Whatever happened to self-control?”

“That,” Dominic says, lifting his eyebrows and returning the smile, “was just a taste of what you’re missing out on.” 

He backs further away from Hal and towards the door. He opens it and gives Hal a significant look, and Hal sighs and reluctantly makes his way across the room. He is already halfway through the door when Dominic speaks up again.

“Hal,” he says, and Hal turns around on the threshold to face him. “If you want more of _this_ ,” Dominic continues, gesturing between the two of them, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

Hal’s eyebrows shoot up. “Earn it how?” 

“I don’t know,” Dominic says with a shrug, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Be creative.”

Hal stares back at him for a long moment, looking like he is stuck somewhere halfway between daunted and intrigued, before eventually, he shakes his head, chokes out a small laugh and says, “Fine, I’ll be creative,” before he pulls the door shut behind him.


	27. Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This is another loooong chapter, with a fair few surprises along the way. 
> 
> WARNING for graphic depictions of labour and childbirth.

Everything is sudden  
Everything is suddenly alive  
All these situations  
Panic into such sweet calm

\- Snow Patrol, “Life and Death”

 

**Hey beautiful, how’s your day going?**

The message lighting up his phone screen draws Dominic’s eyes away from the report he has been in the middle of proofreading for the third time – not because he expects any typos, but because he has to make sure that his account of case #ZS145 doesn’t leave room for the slightest bit of doubt that #SJ031 did not play any part in it, before he sends it across to Alistair later on today.

Now, however, his eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a quiet huff as he reads Hal’s message. Still he can’t keep a small smile from spreading on his lips as he types out his reply.

_**Is that your way of being creative, Hal? Really?** _

**No, that’s just a statement of fact and a question.**

Dominic rolls his eyes at Hal’s reply, but the smile is still firmly in place and try as he might, he can’t seem to shake it.

_**Funny, to me it looked more like mindless flattery.** _

**That’s because you won’t accept a simple truth about yourself. That’s not my fault.**

Dominic sighs shakes his head, then looks up at his laptop screen and quickly hits ‘Save’ on his Word document, before another message from Hal flashes up on his phone.

**He thinks so too, by the way.**

Dominic stares at the screen and swallows thickly.

_**Does he indeed?** _

**Yes, Dominic, he does. Although he tells me that he prefers the word ‘pretty’ to describe you.**

Dominic nearly chokes on a bit of saliva, coughing strongly as he types his reply.

_**You are both clearly deluded. But either way, I’m glad to see you haven’t just kicked him out again.** _

**Well that makes one of us,** Hal replies, and then, **You still haven’t answered my question though.**

Dominic quickly scrolls back up to remind himself what the original question was, then sighs and types,

_**It’s a work day, Hal. Nothing much exciting happening.** _

**To be fair, in your job, that’s not necessarily the norm.**

Dominic smiles.

_**You seem to have a vastly distorted picture of my job, Hal. I don’t just go around interrogating handsome vampires every day.** _

**Oh, now, that’s a shame. I’d volunteer for your interrogation any day. Just, next time, perhaps leave your colleague behind.**

Dominic feels a blush creeping up the back of his neck, the smile widening on his lips.

_**Thanks for the generous offer. I’d rather you didn’t give me any more reasons to interrogate you, Hal, but if I’m ever stuck for something to do, I might check in for a status update.** _

**Sounds good to me.**

Dominic lets out a breathy laugh, then sighs and writes,

_**As things stand, I’m stuck in the office with a whole load of paperwork to do. The most exciting thing about today has probably been actually getting here.** _

**What do you mean?**

_**Flooding on the roads after the rain yesterday. Looked like it must have carried on all night.** _

****Please be careful.** **

Hal’s reply flashes up in his screen, and Dominic feels a pleasant warmth spreading in his chest, a smile spreading on his lips, even as he types,

**_**What do you think is going to happen to me?** _ **

It takes a moment for Hal’s reply to come through.

****You’re not indestructible, you know. If your car blows up, chances are you’re still going to die. Please don’t be reckless.** **

_There is a difference between being reckless and not being afraid of death,_ Dominic thinks, but almost immediately pushes the dark thought out of his mind and instead focuses on Hal’s frankly endearing overprotectiveness. And maybe, a voice at the back of his mind speaks up, he isn’t actually overprotective, but merely knows Dominic well enough to understand his inherent inability – or unwillingness? – to take care of himself. He smiles and writes,

**_**I won’t be.** _ **

****Good boy.** **

Dominic chuckles quietly to himself as he reads Hal’s reply, and almost jumps out off his skin when he hears a loud throat clear from the other side of his desk. His eyes dart up and meet Adrian’s, who is watching him with some interest.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, sir.”

“Not at all, Adrian,” Dominic says with a smile, putting the phone down on the desk in front of him. “What can I do for you?”

Adrian’s expression sobers immediately, and he produces a thin paper file and puts it down on Dominic’s desk in front of him.

“This has just come in,” he says, indicating the file. “Large scale secret Type 2 operation, right under our noses over in Newport, has just been attacked by the Type 1s. I thought you might want to take the lead on this, sir.”

Dominic swallows nervously as he looks down at the file, but finds himself nodding all the same. “Of course, Adrian, thank you.” He looks up at the other man. “Anything else you’re can tell me about these Type 2s?”

We’re thinking they might some of the ones from that large scale recruitment drive in Bristol a few years ago that were left intact after the explosion. Word is they left the city after it’s been targeted quite heavily by the Type 1s recently.”

Dominic nods. “Bristol is well known to have been a Type 2 hotspot for a long time,” he says. “Any news on what the Type 1s are after? Revenge?”

“Most likely,” Adrian says, shrugging. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? They were probably killed by those monsters, so now they’re taking matters into their own hands. Almost makes me want to support them, rather than stop them.”

Dominic’s nostrils flare. “Careful, Adrian, you don’t want to be taking sides in this.”

Adrian frowns. “With all due respect, sir, why not? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m unsettled by the idea of Type 1s as much as the next person, but compared to Type 2s?”

“That’s not the point, Adrian,” Dominic says in a carefully measured voice. “We are here to stop this conflict and to contain any potential supernatural activity that could affect the human population. We are not here to wage war on any particular group of supernaturals.”

Adrian gives him a long, thoughtful look. “Maybe we need to review that stance, sir.”

Dominic feels a nervous flutter in his stomach that quickly morphs into a flare of hunger, and he clenches his jaw tightly.

“That is not for you to decide, Adrian,” he says. “This is what we have done for generations, and we are not going to change our procedures now.”

Adrian gives him another hard look, but eventually nods and says, “Understood, sir.”

At that moment, Dominic’s phone screen lights up again, in full view of Adrian, whose eyes flick down to it immediately.

Dominic blushes as he reads,

****I’m thinking of cooking you dinner, any requests?** **

He quickly grabs the phone off the desk and slides it into his pocket, then looks back up at Adrian, who has a small smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ll leave you to... speak to your girlfriend, sir,” he says, and before he has a chance to fully think it through, Dominic nods emphatically.

“Yes, thank you, Adrian.”

Adrian gives him another scrutinising look before he turns around and leaves the room, and Dominic pulls the phone back out of his pocket and writes,

 **_**You can’t keep contacting me at work, Hal. It’s too risky. ******_ ** ********

********Oh. Of course, sorry.** ** ** **

Dominic sighs and smiles.

******_**Don’t worry for right now, just remember it for the future.** _ ** ** **

********Will do. And I hope the rest of your day gets a little bit more exciting.** ** ** **

******_**I think it just might,**_****** Dominic replies, another nervous flutter in his gut as he throws a sideways glance at the file on his desk, when another message comes through.

********Please be careful. I love you.** ** ** **

******_**I will,**_****** Dominic writes, then swallows, bites his lip, takes a deep breath and adds, ** ** ** _ **You too, Hal.**_******

***

Walking down the corridor to the staff changing room, Natasha’s hand flies up to her rounded stomach at yet another small twinge at the bottom of her abdomen. This must be the seventh or eighth of them she has felt since waking up this morning, and she is starting to think she should probably give her midwife a call. Sally has been great with her so far, being able to put her mind at ease and talking her through the process of giving birth, even as she hasn’t been able to hide her own bemusement at the speed at which Natasha’s pregnancy has been progressing.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she almost walks straight into Hal, who is standing in the corridor looking down at his own phone screen with a wide smile on his face. Her eyes narrow.

“You better get out of my way, freak, if you don’t want me to punch that smile right off your face,” she mutters under her breath, knowing that Hal’s supernatural hearing will still pick up her words as clear as day.

His head snaps up, and he frowns. “Are you all right, Natasha?”

“Yes, thank you, I’m just fine,” she says in a clipped tone, squeezing past him and opening the door to the changing room.

Once inside, she lets out a deep breath and lifts her phone up to her ear. It rings a good number of times, before Sally’s voice sounds through the speaker, declaring that she has reached her voicemail. With another sigh, she puts her phone back in her bag and makes her way across to her locker when she notices Louise sitting on a bench in a corner, unmoving, staring at a point on the floor in front of her. At Natasha’s approach, Louise’s head lifts up to look at her, and there is something almost like fear in her eyes. Natasha frowns.

“Hey, Lou,” she says. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Louise says, averting her eyes and nodding slowly. “Fine.”

Natasha gives her a scrutinising look. “Lou, what’s wrong?”

Louise sighs. “You knew, didn’t you.”

“Knew what, Lou?”

Louise’s eyes flick back up to her, and there is something almost accusatory in them now. “About Hal,” she says.

Natasha’s eyes widen, and suddenly something Dominic said on the phone to her last night surfaces in her mind.

_He lost control, he didn’t mean to do it. And he stopped himself, didn’t he?_

“Lou, what happened?” she asks urgently, looking her friend up and down.

“Nothing,” Louise says too quickly, and Natasha lets out a frustrated huff.

“Sure, yeah, nothing at all,” she says, shaking her head. “Why do all my friends think they can just lie to me and get away with it?”

“No, I didn’t mean to, I…” Louise drifts off and sighs deeply, a tense smile spreading on her lips as she says, “I did something really fucking stupid, Tasha.”

One of Louise’s hands lifts up to her neck, and Natasha’s eyes widen as she brushes the collar of her blouse away from her skin.

“You are fucking kidding me,” Natasha breathes, slowly shaking her head as her eyes stay fixed on the two small marks in her friend’s pale skin. “Didn’t I tell you to stay the fuck away from him?”

“I know you did,” Louise says, nodding, letting her collar fall back into place to hide the bite marks. “I told you it was stupid.”

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, that’s one word for it. What the hell were you thinking, Lou?”

Louise looks down at her own hands, a small crease forming on her brow. “I know you told me not to, Tasha. I have no idea how you would’ve possibly known what he was, but… anyway, after everything that happened, I felt like I had to confront him, I had to know what was going on. He told me, and… he just seemed so… lost, so…” she trails off, takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I don’t even know.”

“So you let him do it?” Natasha asks carefully, giving Louise a scrutinising look.

Louise nods. “Yeah.”

“So he didn’t… force himself on you?” Natasha clarifies, and Louise’s eyes dart up to her, the crease in her brow deepening.

“No, Tasha, of course not.”

Natasha lets out a husky laugh. “He’s a vampire, Lou. You wouldn’t want to hear half of the things he’s done in the past.” She lets out a sharp breath through her nostrils. “He killed one of my best friends.”

Louise inhales sharply. “No way.”

Natasha scoffs. “Oh yeah. Back in London. Her name was Jenna. She was the same age as me. He had sex with her, and then he killed her.” She grimaces as she suddenly remembers another thing Dominic said last night, and she looks straight into Louise’s eyes and asks, “You didn’t… sleep with him, did you?”

Louise frowns darkly. “No, Tasha, what the hell? Why would you think…?”

“Just seems to be a thing he does,” Natasha says through clenched teeth, shaking her head. “But anyway, I’m glad you didn’t.” She gives Louise a tentative smile, but is still only met with a frown.

“He killed your friend?” Louise echoes disbelievingly, and Natasha sighs and nods.

“Yeah. And he… did something even worse to another one.”

Louise’s eyebrows shoot up. “Something worse than death?”

Natasha lets out a laugh that even to her own ears borders on hysterical. “It is if you ask him.”

“What did he—”

“He made him into a vampire, okay? Against his will. And now… now he has to live with this horrible curse and he…” she drifts off, takes a shaky breath, realises that her eyes are stinging, and that she has balled her hands into fists.

“I don’t know how you can even stand the sight of him,” Louise says quietly, and Natasha lets out another near-hysterical laugh.

“Neither do I, believe me. Not without wanting to punch his face in, anyway. In fact…” she trails off, a thought materialising in her mind that she isn’t able to shake, and with one last quick look at Louise, she turns around and makes her way out of the changing room, along the corridor into the dining room. Her eyes dart around the large room, searching, but when she doesn’t find what she is looking for, she makes her way into the foyer, where she spots Hal standing by the reception desk, in his fancy black suit with his white shirt and red tie, looking for all the world like the perfect gentleman.

A surge of ice-cold rage overcomes her, together with another sharp twinge at the bottom of her stomach. This one is stronger, and with it she can feel something else… wetness? She clenches her teeth and does her best to ignore the feeling, her eyes narrowing as she sees the surprise on Hal's face.

“Tasha?”

“You really are just as much of a bastard as I ever thought you were,” she bites out, walking up to him in quick strides.

“I don’t know what you—”

“This is for Lou,” she says, lifts her hand and slaps Hal’s left cheek hard. Hal’s eyes flash black for a millisecond, fangs showing between his parted lips, before he catches himself and looks back at her with utter shock written on his face.

“What the—”

“And this is for Jen,” she continues, her hand once again making contact with Hal’s already bright red skin. His hand flies up to cover his burning cheek, disbelieving eyes fixed on her.

“Tasha, what—“

“And this one,” she snarls, balling her hand into a fist, “is for Dominic.” She lands an almighty punch against Hal’s jaw, and his head whips around, clearly unprepared for the strength of the impact. As soon as her fist falls away from him, another sharp pain grips hold of her, this one strong enough to make her double over, and she groans loudly.

“Tasha?”

Hal’s voice sounds like he is talking underwater, and Natasha tries to look up at him when the pain comes back again, and before she knows it, she finds herself on her knees on the floor, panting for breaths and clutching her hard, cramping stomach.

“Shit,” she breathes, finally lifting her gaze to meet Hal’s, who is looking back at her with impossibly wide eyes. “I… I think it’s coming.”

***

Dominic can feel his whole body tensing up as soon as he steps across the threshold of the old abandoned warehouse, followed by three other grey-clad figures. The smell of blood in the air is so strong it is almost overpowering, and he has to put every single ounce of his energy into not manifesting right here in front of his men. Never mind the fact that, if there are any live vampires left in this hideout, he will be identified immediately.

Praying to a god he doesn’t really believe in that the ghosts have finished the job, he swallows down the quickly gathering saliva in his mouth and focuses on setting one foot in front of the other, eyes darting around the large empty space for any sign of movement.

“Are you sure this is the right address, sir?” one of the men says, and Dominic whirls around to him rather more quickly than perhaps needed.

“Yes, Andy,” he replies, his voice hoarse and slightly breathless, and he tries to cover it up with a loud cough. “There’s definitely something here. Keep your eyes peeled and your guard up.”

“Of course, sir,” Andy says, giving him a brief nod before turning away again to look off into a secluded corner behind an old, rusty forklift.

Dominic makes his way further into the warehouse, taking note of the way the men are spreading out around him, checking every nook and cranny, until—

“Sir!” Mike’s voice sounds from the far end of the vast room, and Dominic’s eyes dart over to him to see the young man frantically waving at him, eyes wide and flicking back and forth between him and something hidden behind a stack of empty pallets.

As soon as he starts walking in Mike’s direction, his sense of smell picks up the scent of barely dried blood emanating from that corner, and he clenches his teeth painfully in a desperate attempt to keep his fangs in check. He can’t manifest in here. He _can’t_.

Turning the corner around the pallet stack, Dominic is hit by a sudden, overwhelming surge of hunger, and he feels all the wind knocked out of him as his eyes home in on the blood-soaked body of a young woman, lying crumpled and forgotten on the cold concrete floor. There is a large, gaping wound in the side of her neck, exposing muscles and tendons, and a puddle of clotted blood on the floor beside her. Her eyes are wide open and unseeing, staring at him with a look of pure terror.

“Definitely a Type 2 attack, sir.” Mike’s voice sounds like it is coming from far away, almost completely drowned out by the deep, booming _thump thump thump_ of his heartbeat.

Dominic brings his hands up to his ears and desperately rubs them to shut out the unwelcome sound, lifting his eyes to the taller man and resisting the urge to blink.

“Indeed,” he says, his own voice sounding almost as distant as Mike’s. He nods jerkily and turns his head away, unable to resist the itching in his eyes anymore, and he blinks once, twice, three times, the colours around him shifting and changing each time.

 _Calm yourself. You can’t lose control here. You_ can’t _._

The thought repeats itself over and over in his head, and he forces a few slow, deep breaths into his lungs and swallows down the saliva still pooling in his mouth.

“You all right, sir?” Mike says, and Dominic closes his eyes, concentrates deeply on pushing down the urge, then nods, blinks his eyes open and looks up at the other man with a small, forced smile.

“Yes, sorry, Mike. I’m fine. I…” he pauses, clears his throat, “seem to be suffering from hay fever. It makes my eyes burn.”

“In January, sir?” Mike says, a crease forming in his brow.

“I-it’s more of a… dust allergy, really,” Dominic says quickly, inwardly kicking himself.

Mike nods. “That makes more sense, sir.”

“Yes,” Dominic says, nodding. “It’s a real nuisance, but what can you do?” He gives the man a small, strained smile and takes a couple of steps away from the body, eyes roaming further into the dark corner.

“So the intel was right after all,” Mike says, following along behind him. “This is the place.”

“So it seems,” Dominic says absentmindedly, taking in the dark, but completely empty corner in front of him. “Although if this really is the Type 2s’ primary hideout, I would’ve expected to find more than just the one body. There must be something more here.”

He turns around again and makes his way back into the main part of the room, as behind him, he can hear Mike say, “Maybe they cleaned up the rest of the bodies before the Type 1s attacked.”

Dominic’s nostrils flare as he carefully sniffs the air around him. “No,” he says without turning back around to the other man. “There is more here somewhere. We’ll just have to find it.”

“Sir, how do you—”

“I just know, Mike,” Dominic says quickly, while at the same time as inconspicuously as possible following the strengthening trail of at least four or five different people’s blood.

“Nothing in that corner, sir,” Andy says as he reappears from behind the forklift. “Anything at your end?”

Dominic nods, carefully controlling his breathing as the smell around him gets stronger and stronger. “There’s a body over in that corner,” he says, swiftly pointing to the corner in question. “Take Rick and get that cleaned up,” he orders, and Andy nods and calls over to one of the remaining men, while Mike continues to follow Dominic.

The scent leads him back to the front part of the room, not too far from the door, and his eyes fall on a large wooden board made of pallet wood that is standing up against one of the walls. At first glance, it looked like nothing at all out of the ordinary, but looking at it again now, he notices the faintest glow of light coming through between the individual planks.

“There,” he breathes, nodding his head in the direction of what he now recognises as a makeshift door, and Mike strides over to it with hurried steps.

“It’s a doorway, sir,” he calls, pushing the wooden board away and revealing a narrow concrete staircase leading down. As soon as the board is gone, the smell hits Dominic’s nostrils like a tidal wave, and a sharp flare of hunger courses through him once more.

“That’s the place,” he croaks, his vocal cords barely obeying him as he struggles to keep his fangs from breaking through.

_You can’t lose control here. You can’t you can’t you can’t._

“I think you might be right, sir,” Mike says, poking his head into the open doorway to peer down the dark staircase. “Can’t see a thing though.”

“There,” Dominic says, lighting his torch and shining it down the stairs.

Mike nods and follows Dominic’s gaze down the empty staircase. “After you, sir,” he says, turning back around and giving Dominic an expectant look.

Dominic swallows thickly, clenches his jaw as tightly as he can, holds his breath and nods.

Here goes nothing.

***

Hal crouches next to Natasha on the floor, eyes wide as he takes in the pain and fear written on her face. Both of her hands are tightly clutching her stomach tightly as she sits hunched over on the floor.

“Natasha, listen, you have to stay calm,” he says, and she lets out a breathless snort.

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try that if your about to fucking give birth,” she snaps, and Hal swallows.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he says, trying desperately to keep his own calm as his eyes dart around the empty foyer before they land back on Natasha. “Can you get up?”

“I can try,” she says, and puts her hands down on the floor in front of her to push herself up. As soon as she starts moving, another painful contraction hits her, and she groans and collapses back to the floor.

“Fuck, these are bad,” she grinds out through clenched teeth. “How the hell did this happen so quickly?”

“I don’t know,” Hal says, helplessly looking on as she once again tries and fails to get up off the floor. After a third fruitless attempt, he sighs deeply and mutters, “Here, let me,” before he moves in and lifts her right off the floor, bridal style.

“Fucking hell do you think you’re doing, freak,” Natasha spits out, struggling in his grasp, and he only grips her tighter and starts walking towards the ground floor guest rooms.

“I’m getting you somewhere more private,” he explains, as she continues to try and wiggle her way out of his arms, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t make this any harder for either of us.”

“Let me down, then,” Natasha snaps, punching him in the chest repeatedly, until another painful contraction has her curling up against him, and he strengthens his hold of her and continues down the corridor until he reaches an empty room. “Hal,” Natasha says again, her breaths coming in short, shallow bursts, “let me down.”

“Give me a second,” he replies, pushing the door open and making his way into the room. Once there, he as carefully as possible lowers Natasha down onto the bed, were she immediately curls up into a ball on her side, her hands clutching her rounded stomach again.

“Call Sally,” she gasps, and Hal frowns.

“Call who now?”

“My midwife,” Natasha explains, rolling her eyes. “Number’s in my phone. In my locker. Here’s the key.” She throws him a small locker key, and he gives her a thoughtful look.

“Are you going to be all right here for a minute?”

“Yeah, I’m just peachy, can’t you see?" she scoffs, then sighs and adds, “Yes, Hal, I’ll be fine, just go and call Sally, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods and leaves the room, half walking, half running to the changing room.

His eyes dart over the row the lockers and he desperately tries to remember which one is hers. Trying his luck with the most likely one, he pushes the small key into the lock and lets out a relieved breath as it turns in the lock and the door swings open. He quickly rummages through Natasha’s bag for her phone, and a small smile flits across his face as he recognises the Blackberry. It’s the same model as his and Dominic’s, he thinks, as he clutches it in his hand, throws the locker door closed and hastily scrolls through Natasha’s contacts for the woman called Sally, until he finally finds her number and lifts the phone up to his ear.

“Hello? Tasha?” a female voice rings through the speaker.

“It’s not Tasha,” Hal says as he makes his way back to Natasha.

“Then who is this?” the woman, Sally, asks. “Tom?”

“No, ma’am. My name is Hal, I’m a… friend and work colleague of Tasha’s,” he explains.

“Is everything all right with Tasha?” Sally asks.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling,” Hal says, rolling his eyes as he continues down the corridor towards the room. “It looks like she has gone into labour.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s probably just Braxton Hicks contractions,” Sally says almost dismissively, and Hal exhales sharply as he pushes the door open and lays eyes on Natasha, who is sweating and panting on the bed, clutching her lower abdomen in obvious agony.

“I really don’t think—” he starts but Sally interrupts him.

“Tasha isn’t anywhere near term yet, even with all the conflicting information she’s given me about dates,” she says. “I really wouldn’t be—”

The rest of the sentence is drowned out by a loud wail coming over from the direction of the bed, and Hal’s eyes widen as Natasha rolls over onto her back and pants, “It’s coming, Hal, I can feel it.”

“Really, ma’am, with all due respect, I think we need to get her to a hospital,” Hal says into the phone.

“Is that Sally?” Natasha asks. Hal nods, and she adds, “Put her on speaker.”

Hal looks from her to the phone in his hand and back again a couple of times, unsure of what to do, until Natasha lets out a frustrated sigh and holds out her hand.

“Here, give it to me,” she breathes, and Hal quickly hands over the phone.

Natasha presses a couple of buttons, and a moment later, Sally’s voice rings out loudly in the room. “Hello? Hal? Are you still there?”

“Sally,” Natasha gasps, letting out a relieved breath before, a moment later, she grimaces again as another painful contraction takes hold of her.

“Tasha? Oh, good, you’re there. How are you feeling? How frequent are the contractions?”

Natasha huffs. “What do you mean, how frequent? Like… they don’t really stop?”

“How long ago did it start?”

Natasha lets out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know. When I woke up this morning? Wasn’t too bad to start with, so I didn’t think anything of it.” She pauses, groans with another contraction, then lets out a shaky laugh and says, “Guess I was wrong.”

“Tasha, have your waters broken?” Sally asks urgently.

Natasha grimaces slightly and nods. “I think so, yeah.”

There is a quiet curse followed by a long silence on the other end of the phone, and Hal carefully watches Natasha, who is breathing heavily and sweating profusely now.

“Hal?” Sally asks eventually.

Hal’s eyes dart across to the phone lying on the bedside table. “Yes?”

“I need you to check something for me, do you think you can do that?”

“Of course,” Hal says, even as he feels Natasha’s sharp eyes on him, and he adds, “I think.”

“You better be sure,” Sally says, a slightly tense edge creeping into her voice. “I need you to check if you can see the baby’s head.”

Another silence descends on the room, and Hal is sure you could hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for Natasha’s persistent heavy breathing. He swallows thickly, eyes darting from the phone to Natasha and back again, before he says, “Me?”

It’s as if the one word has made something click in Natasha’s mind, as her eyes widen almost comically and she frantically shakes her head. “Fuck no.”

“Tasha,” Sally says urgently on the other end. “If you’re really as far along as you say you are, we don’t really have any time to spare.”

Natasha throws him a look of pure venom, holding his gaze for a long time, before she groans with another strong contraction, clenches her teeth, looks up at the ceiling and reluctantly nods. “Fine. Just make it quick.”

“I…”

“Hal,” Natasha barks. “Just fucking do it, okay? This couldn’t get any more embarrassing for me if I tried.”

“I really don’t understand how this could have progressed quite so quickly,” Sally muses through the speaker. “Even for a precipitous labour, this is… extraordinary.”

“Yeah, well, I just don’t really do ordinary,” Natasha gasps between heavy breaths as she quickly pushes down her skirt, tights and underwear. Then she looks back up at Hal, a bright red blush colouring her cheeks that he does his very best to ignore, and says, “I can’t believe I’m letting you of all people anywhere near there.”

Hal lets out a sharp breath through his nostrils to hide his own discomfort as he moves closer to the bed. “Don’t worry, Tasha. You’re not the first naked woman I’ve seen.”

Natasha snorts. “No. That I’m sure of.” Then she lets her head drop back on the bed and slowly pulls up her legs, and Hal swallows and leans in. Just before he can actually see anything, however, her head shoots up again, fire in her eyes, and she snaps, “Look, don’t touch, all right? You touch me, and I’ll kill you.”

“Tasha!” Sally’s voice rings through the speaker, and despite everything, Hal can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“I promise I won’t touch you,” he says, holding his hands up as he looks back at her with raised eyebrows. She meets his gaze for a moment, before her eyes roll back in their sockets as she is hit by another powerful contraction.

“Holy fucking shit, this is not fun,” she shouts into the room at large, and Hal takes the opportunity to drop his gaze down.

“Hal?” Sally asks, as if on cue, and Hal’s eyes go almost impossibly wide as he sees a small head with tufts of dark hair appearing in front of him, before it disappears back inside a moment later.

“It’s… it’s there,” he says breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight as the head reappears a short while later.

“What?” Natasha chokes out, her head whipping up to stare at him, at the same time as Sally says, “Damn it.”

“What?” Natasha says again, eyes darting over to the phone again. “What do you mean? What does this mean?”

“I’m on my way,” Sally says. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What… here?” Natasha gasps. “But I don’t want to… I… can’t I… go to the hospital?”

“There isn’t time, Tasha,” Sally says. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hal?”

“Yes?” Hal replies, eyes snapping up to the phone.

“Stay there with her,” Sally says. “Just keep her relaxed.”

Natasha lets out a breathless laugh. “No fucking chance.”

Sally sighs loudly on the other end. “Just… try, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead, and Natasha throws him another murderous look. “Get the fuck away from me, freak, and call Tom. I’m not staying here with you.”

Hal looks back at her for a moment, brow creasing, before he pulls out his own phone and dials Tom’s number. It rings at least three or four times before it is picked up, and Hal doesn’t even wait for Tom to speak before he says, “Tom, you have to come to the hotel, Tasha is having the baby.”

“Whoa, hold on there, what?” Alex’s voice sounds through the speaker, and Hal frowns.

“Alex?”

“What?” Natasha asks, frowning up at him, and he quickly shakes his head at her.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Alex says. “Tom gave me his phone before he left for the woods last night.”

“Ah, damn it,” Hal swears under his breath, then, louder adds, “Of course, I forgot it was a full moon last night.”

Alex huffs. “Yeah, that’s how much you care about your friends these days.”

“Alex—”

“No, never mind,” Alex says quickly. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently. Although, all things considered, that probably wasn’t the best analogy I’ve ever used.”

Hal lets out a frustrated sigh. “Alex, where is Tom?”

“He’s… not come back yet,” Alex says slowly, and Hal swears again.

“Just… tell him to come to the hotel as soon as you see him, okay?” he says, eyes darting over to Natasha, who is giving him a quizzical look.

“He’s… not there?” she asks in an uncharacteristically small, hesitant voice, and Hal throws her an apologetic smile.

“No, Tasha, I’m sorry. He’s not back from the woods yet.”

“Oh,” she says, still in that small, slightly broken voice, not meeting Hal’s eyes.

He looks at her for a long moment, takes in the way her chest rises and falls quickly with her fast, heavy breathing, before his eyes wander back down again, and he quickly turns away and makes his way to the door.

“Hal?” Natasha asks behind him, and he stops with his hand already on the door handle, turns back around to her and gives her another tense smile. “I’m just getting you a blanket, to… cover up,” he says quickly before disappearing through the door.

Once outside, he takes deep breath and fights down the hunger that has been lapping at his insides. The smell of blood in the room has been growing and spreading over the last few minutes, and the sound of the two heartbeats has been echoing relentlessly around the small room. Hal finds his hands shaking slightly as he grabs a couple of blankets from the linen closet down the corridor, and he takes another couple of deep, grounding breaths before he re-enters the room.

Natasha’s eyes dart over to him as he enters, a small smile on her lips as he quickly strides over and covers her up with one of the blankets.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling the blanket up almost to her chin, and Hal can’t help but smile back at her.

“You’re welcome.” He reaches a hand out, almost as if on instinct, to wipe away the beads of sweat that have collected on her forehead, but he stops himself at the last moment, remembering his promise to her, and he pulls his hand away and turns back towards the door instead.

“Hal?” she asks, and once again he turns around to her, giving her a quizzical look. She lets out a ragged, shaky sigh. “Don’t… leave me alone, please,” she gasps, averting her eyes as if ashamed to have spoken those words, but Hal’s hand lifts off the door handle, and he takes a few steps back into the room.

“I’ll wait here with you if you really want me to,” he says, pulling one of the chairs away from the small table in one corner.

She nods jerkily, still not meeting his eyes, and says, “Yeah. Thanks. I… do.” The next moment, she is gripped by another strong contraction, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream.

“Shit, Hal, how much longer is this going to go on for?” she asks, wild eyes darting over to him, and his own eyes widen.

“I don’t know, Tasha,” he says honestly.

She lets out a breathless laugh. “And there I was, thinking you’d know everything.”

“Nobody could possibly know everything,” he says quietly, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. The next few minutes blend into a timeless haze, with Natasha falling into a cycle of fast, heavy breaths, broken up here and there by gasps, winces, groans and screams of pain, but nothing seems to progress for a long time, until suddenly, she gasps and shouts, “Hal Hal Hal it’s coming I can feel it it’s coming it’s coming!”

Hal starts and looks up from the small painting of a seascape on the opposite wall he has been focusing on to keep his mind off the enticing smell and the inviting sound of the two heartbeats in the room.

Natasha’s eyes are wide and desperate as she looks over at him, and her hair is soaked in sweat and matted to her forehead.

“It’s right there Hal, I can feel it, I need to push, I need to get it out now,” she says.

Hal’s hand immediately reaches for her phone again, calling Sally’s number. It rings a couple of times, before there is a loud sound of static, and Sally’s voice sounding very far away.

“Tasha? Hal? Did some… …pen?”

“How far away are you?” Hal asks, eyes fixed on Natasha, who is writhing and gasping on the bed and giving him a desperate look.

“There’s a… of… ding,” Sally’s voice breaks through the static, and Hal frowns.

“Sorry, you’re breaking up, can you repeat that?”

“There’s… lot of …ing on the…” Sally tries again. “My sig… not very g….” Sally tries again, and suddenly, Hal remembers something Dominic said to him earlier.

“Are you saying the roads are flooded?” he asks.

“Ye…” Sally replies. “Can’t get thr…”

“Fuck it,” Hal mutters, clenching his teeth. “Sally, how far away are you?”

“Don’t kn… …ly,” Sally replies. “Could b…”

The line cuts out completely then, and Hal stares at the phone in his hand for a long moment, a leaden weight dropping into his stomach as he looks back up at Natasha.

“What?” she gasps.

Hal swallows hard, and with all the calm he can possibly muster, says, “I think I might have to do it.”

“What?” Natasha repeats, about an octave higher than before, her head lifting up to give Hal an incredulous look.

“She got stuck in the road flooding, no idea when she’s going to make it. I think we’re on our own, Tasha.”

“No,” she replies, frantically shaking her head. “Oh, hell, no, you’re not… you’re not delivering my fucking baby.”

Hal huffs and lifts his eyebrows at her. “Would you rather do it completely on your own? Be my guest.”

He takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, and Natasha’s eyes grow fearful. “No,” she calls quickly. “Don’t leave me alone with this, please.” Hal just continues to look at her, and after another long moment and what looks like a particularly painful contraction, she sighs, rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, clenches her teeth and says, “I haven’t got a choice, have I.”

“Not really, no,” Hal agrees, walking back towards the bed.

Reluctantly, Natasha lifts the blanket away, and Hal’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as he sees the very top of the baby’s head emerging. The smell of blood is almost overwhelming him now, it’s everywhere around him, and he tightly bites his teeth together to keep his fangs under control.

“Please tell me you have at least done this before,” Natasha asks urgently, and Hal looks up to find desperate eyes boring into him.

He clears his throat loudly. “I’ve… seen it done… a couple of times…” he says reluctantly, and Natasha groans.

“You’re _five hundred years old_ , Hal, for god’s sake,” she points out, and he lifts his eyebrows at her.

“I’m a vampire, Tasha. We can’t exactly reproduce in that way.”

“Oh, fuck, we’re both going to die,” Natasha mutters, then lets out another loud scream, and Hal watches with huge eyes and bated breath as the baby’s head inches towards his outstretched hands. “If we die, I hope you realise that Tom’s going to kill you,” she pants between heavy breaths, and Hal chokes out a laugh.

“You’re not going to die, Tasha,” he says. “Just… keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah… all right… keep doing…” Natasha’s words dissolve in yet another loud cry as she pushes, and the baby’s head emerges another inch. Hal’s eyes dart down to see a small trickle of blood landing on his shaking hands, and he works hard to keep them steady, unable to tear his eyes away from the tempting red covering his fingers. “Hal?” Natasha gasps, but Hal finds himself unable to respond, staring as if hypnotised at the small head inching towards his hands, covered in soft black hair and sweet red blood. “Hal!” Natasha calls again, louder, and this time she breaks through his trance, and he manages to look up, frowning when her eyes widen in panic. “Hal, what the fuck? Get the fuck away from me! Get away from him!”

Hal shakes himself and gulps in a deep breath as he realises that his eyes and fangs have manifested. “I’m so sorry,” he rasps and squeezes his eyes shut to force them to go back to normal. He blinks them back open and looks down at his hands that are still in place, slowly but surely guiding the small head away from Natasha’s body. Shoulders and chest follow shortly after, and before he knows it, Hal lets out a husky chuckle as he holds the tiny body in his hands, a whole, healthy human baby, and for one short moment, the hunger is silenced as he is overcome by a sense of quiet euphoria.

Then, as he lifts the baby upwards, a wave of blood gushes out in the small body’s wake, and Hal’s eyes widen as they gaze down on the red liquid covering his hands, arms, and upper body, and then there is only one thought left in his mind.

Blood.

So much blood.

***

So much blood.

Dominic’s eyes are fixed on the carnage in front of him, and try as he might, he can’t tear them away from the blood all around him.

It’s everywhere around him. Covering the floor, the walls, the large table in the middle of the room, the soiled mattresses in the corner. Dead bodies in different stages of decay are strewn across the room, large, gaping holes in their skin from where sharp fangs have torn into them.

Dominic’s nostrils flare at the heady mix of different blood types in the stuffy basement air, and he desperately tries to hold on to his self-control, to stop his fangs from descending, to keep his eyes from changing, but he knows he is fighting a losing battle. The pressure in his gums is just too much, and the hunger licks at his insides like white hot flames. In his desperation, he bites down hard on his own tongue, feels the thin, diluted blood trickle into his mouth, but it’s not enough, it’s _not enough_ , the scent around him is too strong, too tempting, too much…

“Sir?” Mike’s voice drifts into his consciousness, and he blinks up at him for a split second, grateful for the dim lighting as he quickly squeezes his eyes shut again, bringing up one hand to squeeze his thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” he croaks, then clears his throat and adds, “That allergy… I… I can’t breathe… I think… I need some air…”

And without waiting for an answer, he whirls around and all but sprints back up the narrow staircase, pushes through the doorway at the top and through the main door into the small yard beyond, and only when he is safely outside and out of sight of any prying eyes does he fully open his eyes, blinks frantically a number of times before he is sure they have gone back to normal. His fangs, as usual, are more stubborn to get rid of, and he absentmindedly runs his tongue over the sharp tips as he gulps in some deep breaths of fresh air.

“Ooh, look what we’ve got here,” a female voice suddenly pipes up to his right, and Dominic whirls around, eyes wide as they fall on a young woman with fiery red hair and a thick woollen jumper. Her eyes roam across him with some interest, before she smirks and asks, “A straggler? Come home late to find your mates all turned into dust?”

Dominic frowns. “I’m not sure what you…” He drifts off, eyes widening as she produces a large, bloody, wooden stake from her back pocket, and he suddenly realises who – or rather _what_ – it is he is talking to. “I’m not with them,” he says tensely, taking a few slow steps away from the ghost, who still looks at him with that disconcerting smirk on her lips.

“No, you’re not, are you. You’re an interesting one. I gathered you’re with them,” she says, tilting her head towards the door. “The fabled Men in Grey, risen from the ashes once more.”

Dominic swallows and nods. “That’s correct. We’re here to investigate what happened to these Type 2s. Are you… able to tell us anything about… what happened?”

The ghost scoffs. “I’m not going to tell _you_ anything, vampire filth,” she spits, her face darkening as she looks him up and down once more. “For all I know, you might be pals with him.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you pals with him?”

“With who?” Dominic asks, a queasy feeling spreading in his stomach.

“The guy I’m looking for,” the ghost says. “The guy that… well, you could say, started all of this.” She spreads out her hands and turns around in a circle before she looks back up at Dominic with a questioning look. “Do you know where to find him?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you if you don’t tell me his name,” Dominic presses on, giving her a significant look.

She holds his gaze for a long moment, then shakes her head and lets out a loud laugh. “Nah, sorry, it’s too risky. For all I know, you’re going to run straight back to him, to warn him.” She puts the stake back into her pocket and gives him another thoughtful look. “Run along back to your Men in Grey,” she says, that smirk back on her lips as she adds, “Quickly, before I change my mind.”

Dominic lets out a deep breath of relief as he slowly backs away from her, in the direction of the door. “At least give me your name,” he says.

She laughs again, but doesn’t immediately refuse. Instead, she looks at him again, an unreadable expression on her face, before she opens her mouth and says “I’m—”

She cuts off as Dominic’s phone rings loudly in his pocket, and her eyes dart down to it for a split second before she disappears into thin air.

“Fuck,” Dominic mutters as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and, without even looking at the caller ID, brings it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there,” Hal says, and Dominic lets out a frustrated huff.

“How many more times do I need to tell you not to contact me at work?” he barks, nostrils quivering as he stares at the empty space where the ghost stood only moments before.

“I’m sorry,” Hal says, and Dominic sighs deeply.

“You better be. You may have just cost me a breakthrough lead on our Type 1 army.”

“I’m sorry,” Hal says again, and it is only now that Dominic recognises the tired, bordering on exhausted tone of his voice.

“Hal, is everything okay?” he asks cautiously, eyes narrowing when Hal lets out a quiet, breathy chuckle.

“I suppose it is,” Hal replies. “I’m sorry to bother you at work, Dominic, but I thought you might want to know that Natasha has just given birth to a healthy baby boy.”

Dominic freezes, eyes growing big as his brain slowly processes Hal’s words. “I… you mean…”

“Yes,” Hal says, a smile in his tired voice.

“Are… are you at the hospital with her?” Dominic asks, a small crease forming on his brow.

“We’re not at the hospital yet,” Hal says. “We’re still waiting for the ambulance.”

Dominic’s frown deepens. “But then where…?”

“The hotel,” Hal explains. “Long story, I’ll tell you later.”

“I’ll be on my way as soon as I can,” Dominic says, and lets the phone drop away from his ear as a bright smile spreads across his lips. He quickly lifts the phone up again and dials Mike’s number. It only rings once before the other man picks up.

“Mr Rook?”

“Mike,” he says, unable to fully keep the smile out of his voice. “I’ve… had some news, and I have to go. I trust you and the men to finish the tidy up operation without me.”

“Of course, sir,” Mike says promptly, as Dominic is already walking across the large empty yard to his car.

“Excellent,” Dominic says, climbing into the driver’s seat. “I will catch up with you shortly.”

And with one last fleeting look across the yard to the spot where the red-haired ghost disappeared, he sets the car in motion, en route to the hospital. ******  
******


	28. Adie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! Your support means everything guys, honestly.
> 
> So, after all the angst in the last few chapters, I am pleased to give you some tooth-rotting fluff (with maybe a tiny bit of angst thrown in because, you know, I can't help myself). Anyway, you have been warned.

A friendship has begun  
Father and a son  
Wisdom and the ways  
Hands to keep you safe  
Push the pieces back in line

\- Grant Nicholas, “Father and Son”

 

“Hal.”

Her voice is croaky and weak, but his eyes flick up to her straight away, and the large weight on her chest lightens somewhat as he blinks away the horrible empty black eyes and slowly extends shaking arms towards her. The little body in his hands is completely motionless at first, covered in blood with sticky dark brown locks of hair on his tiny head, and a heavy stillness descends over the room.

“Isn’t he supposed to… cry or something?” Natasha asks, anxious eyes fixed on the baby – _her baby_ – even as she stretches out her arms and takes him off of Hal, who immediately takes a few hasty steps backwards and averts his eyes. 

“He will, I’m sure,” Hal says in a clipped tone, clearly expending as little air as possible.

Looking down at the tiny body in her arms, Natasha is overcome by the strongest feeling of warmth and protectiveness and love she has ever felt for anyone in her life, and she smiles and whispers, “Hey, little man.”

The baby’s eyes open, big and blue, staring up at her in wonder for a moment, before he gulps in a deep breath, lets out what sounds like a quiet gurgle, and starts into a loud, shrill, healthy cry.

Natasha’s smile widens as she cuddles the small body closer to her chest, and chuckles breathlessly as her thumb is grabbed by a tiny fist. She looks up at Hal, who has retreated to the far corner of the room, not meeting her eyes and looking like he is doing his very best not to breathe. 

“You don’t need to stay in here with us, you know,” she says, and he jerkily nods.

“I know.”

She looks at him for a moment longer, expecting him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Hal,” she says. His eyes flick up to her, and she takes a deep breath, bites her lip and says, “Thank you.”

She can see Hal swallow thickly, his gaze roaming for a moment longer over her and the baby in her arms. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve… you know. And you didn’t. And I doubt I could’ve done this by myself, so… thank you.”

Hal lets out a breathless laugh, subconsciously rubbing his chin, and for the first time she notices the slight blue and purple shading along the side of his jaw from where she punched him earlier. She quickly averts her eyes, but not before she sees him nodding again. “You’re welcome.”

Silence follows his words, and Natasha busies herself with clumsily unbuttoning her waistcoat and blouse, remembering something Sally told her about skin-to-skin contact. The baby lets out a contented sighs as he snuggles against her, and she smiles as she wraps both of them up in one of the spare blankets lying next to her on the bed.

“Hal?” she asks without looking up. 

“Yes, Tasha?” 

“Can I… ask you something?”

She can all but feel Hal narrowing his eyes at her when he slowly says, “I suppose.”

She hesitates for a moment, eyes glued to the baby resting peacefully against her chest. Then she takes a deep breath, throws caution to the wind and asks, “Did you have any? Of your own? When you were… you know… human?”

Hal barks out a sharp laugh, and her eyes dart up to see him giving her a look that is half incredulous and half wistful. “No,” he says. “I didn’t.”

“Would you have wanted to?” she asks, her forehead creasing as she looks back at him, sees the wistful expression win out.

“My life didn’t exactly work out in that way,” he says, once again not fully meeting her eyes. 

Something about him in that moment makes her feel a wave of overwhelming sadness, and she sends a small smile his way and says, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks,” Hal says quietly, and there is a beat of silence before he takes a deep breath and adds, “I’m not a bad person, you know, Tasha.” She opens her mouth to reply, but he continues, “There’s a… part of me… a separate part… that enjoys all the killing and sex and power plays. But that’s not me. It’s… it’s complicated. I don’t know how to…” he drifts off, shakes his head, a thoughtful expression on his face, before he adds, “Perhaps you should ask Dominic about it sometime.”

She frowns at him for a moment and is about to reply, not even entirely sure what she is going to say to a statement like that, when the door bursts open, and her eyes dart over to see Tom, looking like a drowned rat and smelling strongly of wet fur and pine trees, standing in the doorway, eyes round as saucers as he takes in the scene in front of him.

“Tasha?” he asks breathlessly. “You all righ’?”

She feels a giggle bubbling up in her throat and making its way out through her slightly parted lips. “Yes, Tom, I’m fine. We’re both fine.”

“Both?” he repeats, and, if possible, his eyes grow even bigger as they fall on the small bundle of blankets snuggled up against her chest. “Did ya…?” he breathes, eyes darting back and forth between her and the baby.

Natasha laughs breathlessly. “Yes, Tom, I did.”

“So… so that’s…” 

“Our son, yeah,” Natasha says, smiling down at the little pink face before she looks back up at Tom again. “Wanna say hello?”

Tom stares at her completely motionlessly for what seems like the longest moment, before he eventually takes a few slow, hesitant steps towards the bed. As soon as he does, his brow creases as he notices the umbilical cord still connecting the baby to her.

“Hang on, is that supposed to still be there?” he asks, and Natasha bites her lip and shakes her head.

“Not technically, no,” Hal speaks up from the far corner of the room, and Tom whirls around to him, as if he is only now becoming aware that there is someone else in the room. His expression darkens as he sees Hal standing in the corner of the room, his white shirt soaked red with her blood.

“Hal?” he asks, a hint of hostility creeping into his voice. “What ya doin’ ‘ere, mate?”

“Tom,” Natasha chimes in, drawing Tom’s gaze back to herself. “Hal… helped me. He… he delivered him, Tom. He did great.”

“He… wha’?” Tom’s gaze wanders back and forth between Natasha and the baby and Hal standing in the far corner, the expression on his face quickly cycling between surprise and suspicion and protectiveness and relief, before the message eventually seems to sink in, and he crosses the room in a few swift strides and envelopes Hal in a tight bear hug. Natasha chuckles as she sees Hal stiffening and pulling slightly back, nose wrinkling at the strong werewolf scent, but Tom appears blissfully unaware as he pats Hal on the back and says, “Thank you, mate.”

“You’re welcome, Tom,” Hal says, pulling away from the hug and giving his friend a heartfelt smile. “Now, you should really say hello, don’t you think?”

Tom nods jerkily, then turns back around to the bed, his eyes at once drawn to the baby again. Natasha’s gaze follows his and finds him blissfully sleeping against her, and she smiles.

“Hey there, lil’un,” Tom says, stretching out a tentative hand and taking hold of one tiny hand in his own. The baby lets out a soft sigh, blue eyes fluttering open and staring up curiously for a moment at the new person in his line of vision, before he settles back down drifts off to sleep again. 

“What’s his name?” Hal speaks up then, taking a step towards the bed, and both Tom and Natasha’s eyes dart up to him.

“Anthony,” Tom says without hesitation, a split second before Natasha blurts out, “Dominic.”

There is a beat of silence, before Tom nods briskly and says, “Anthony Dominic.”

Natasha is uncomfortably aware of Hal’s stunned eyes resting on her, and she can feel herself going beetroot red. “What?” she asks, almost a bit defiantly, and Hal’s face breaks out in a bright smile.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m sure he will be honoured.”

Natasha averts her eyes, looking back down at the tiny body resting against her. “Yeah, whatever,” she mumbles, a small, embarrassed smile playing on her lips, and somewhere to her left, she can hear Hal chuckle.

“’S a bit of a mouthful though, innit?” Tom says then, and she looks up to see his eyes fixed on the baby in her arms, his expression thoughtful. “Anthony Dominic?”

Natasha laughs. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out, Tom,” she says, a moment before there is some sort of commotion in the hallway, and the door opens to reveal a frazzled-looking woman in her forties with wind-swept brown curls and frantic green eyes, wearing a blue hospital tunic under a thick dark grey parka.

“Tasha?” the woman says, eyes darting between her and the baby in her arms.

“Hi, Sally,” Natasha says, smiling tiredly. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

***

Hal pushes open the door to the staff changing room and takes a deep gulp of clean air to fill his burning lungs. Sally’s arrival has given him the perfect opportunity to escape from the room, and once he was safely outside and far away from the overpowering smell of thick, rich blood, he started to slowly emerge from the blurry daze he had found himself in. But it was only after calling Dominic and getting a very odd look indeed from one of the guests – a middle-aged businessman who passed him in the corridor – that he realised he was still covered almost head to toe in Natasha’s blood. 

Stepping into the room, he makes quick work of his suit jacket, tie and shirt, pushing them off his shoulders and balling them up tightly in his hands as he crosses the room towards his locker. He stops in his tracks when he notices Louise standing in the middle of the room, in her own clothes, her bag slung over one shoulder and a thick scarf wrapped around her neck, hiding away the marks he left there yesterday.

“I quit,” she says, not meeting his eyes. “I… thought long and hard about it, and I can’t…” she trails off as she notices his state of undress, and the visibly blood-stained clothes in his hands. “Hal?” she asks, alarmed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Natasha,” he starts, and her eyes widen.

“What about her? What have you done to her?”

Hal lets out a frustrated sigh. “I haven’t _done_ anything,” he says impatiently. “She’s given birth, I just…”

“You killed her,” Louise breathes, her eyes going hard. “Tell me you haven’t, Hal, or I swear I—”

“I haven’t killed her, Louise,” Hal cuts in, giving her an exasperated look. “She’s fine. They’re both fine. I just… I helped her give birth, and I’ve come in to get changed.” His eyes flick down to the bloodied clothes in his hands, and back up to Louise, who is shaking her head slowly.

“She’s… given birth? Here? In the hotel?” Hal nods, and she frowns. “But… she was perfectly fine, like, an hour ago.”

“I know, Louise,” Hal says with a sigh. “There’s a lot about this pregnancy that’s been a little… unconventional.”

“What do you mean, unconventional?” Louise asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

Hal gives her a calculating look for a moment, before he decides that it’s not worth keeping secrets from her anymore. Not after what happened yesterday. “Unconventional insofar as… I’m not the only one here who is… not exactly human,” he says carefully, and Louise’s eyes widen.

“You mean Tasha…?” 

Hal shakes his head, chuckling quietly. “No, not Tasha,” he says. “Tom.”

“Tom’s a vampire?” Louise asks disbelievingly, taking a step away from him, and Hal only chuckles harder.

“No, Louise. He’s not a vampire. We… can’t have babies. It doesn’t work like that once your body is technically dead.”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder of that,” Louise says giving him a funny look. Then her forehead creases, and she adds, “So if he’s not a vampire… what is he?”

Hal holds her gaze for a long moment, completely sincerely, and says, “He’s a werewolf.”

Louise barks out a short laugh. “A werewolf.”

“Yes,” Hal says, nodding, and she quickly shakes her head.

“Yeah, all right, I’m out of here,” she says, grasping the bag tighter to her side as she swiftly steps around Hal towards the exit.

As she pushes past him, he is hit by a sudden waft of her irresistible O negative blood, and it’s like the smell unleashes something in him, something he has kept tightly locked up for the last hour, and the hunger surges up inside him like a tidal wave. He drops the blood-soaked clothes on the floor in front of him through shaking fingers. 

“Louise,” he calls, and she turns around when she is already most of the way to the door.

“What?”

“I…” he croaks, then pauses, clears his throat. He finds that he can’t look at her, so he fixes his gaze on the wall behind her, and through clenched teeth, he says, “Please, can you… help me out again? Just… just this once? I swear I won’t ask you again after this.”

Louise is frozen to the spot, not moving or speaking or even breathing, for the longest moment, and Hal’s eyes finally drift over to find her staring at him with a doubtful expression on her face.

“I… really don’t think…” she starts, but his eyes follow as, almost as if in slow motion, her hands come up to unwrap the scarf from her neck, revealing the two half-healed bite marks. He watches her swallow thickly, repeatedly, before she lets out a breathy sigh and says, “Just this once.”

He nods, never lifting his gaze from her neck as he slowly moves towards her. “Of course.” The scent of her blood is drawing him in, and he leans down, breath ghosting over the two small pinprick marks, making her shiver under him. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Yeah, just… make it quick, Hal,” she says tensely, and he hesitates only for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into her delicate skin.

***

The first thing Dominic notices as he enters the hospital is the _smell_. Even under all the layers of industrial strength cleaner he can smell it, and it makes his mouth water and his stomach rumble. After his earlier encounter at the vampire hideout, the hunger is still very close to the surface, and he lets out a quiet, low moan under his breath before he can stop himself. How any vampire could ever work in a place like this is beyond him. 

Frowning and shaking his head, he holds his breath as he follows the signs to the maternity ward, and by the time he walks through the wide double doors into the four-bedded bay, he feels like he has acclimatised somewhat to his surroundings, and the hunger has quietened down to an almost bearable level.

Then his eyes fall on Natasha – lying half-reclined in bed, pale, exhausted looking, but nevertheless glowing with a radiance he has never seen in her before, and to his immense surprise, the hunger dwindles and dies inside him. He follows her gaze to Tom sitting in an armchair by the window, fast asleep, with a small, tightly wrapped bundle held in his arms, and his breath sticks in his throat. He clears it loudly, and Natasha’s head whips around to him. 

“Dominic,” she says, with an odd mixture of happiness and apprehension in her voice, and he looks away, out the window, clearing his throat again before he answers.

“Hal told me that… well…” he pauses, lifts his eyebrows in her vague direction, still not making eye contact. “I just wanted to see that you’re all right. You and… the baby.”

“We are,” she says, and he chances a small smile in her direction, pleased when he sees her return it a moment later. “Thanks to Hal.”

Dominic frowns. “What do you mean, thanks to Hal?”

Natasha lets out a small, tired laugh. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what, Tasha?” Dominic asks, and she laughs again.

“He told you I gave birth at the hotel, yeah?”

Dominic nods. “Yes, but—”

“The midwife didn’t make it,” she continues, giving him a meaningful look, and his eyes widen.

“You mean…?” 

“I know, I can’t believe it either,” Natasha says, shrugging slightly as she smiles across to the sleeping Tom and the baby. “But he did it. He delivered him, safe and sound. I… as much as I hate to admit it, I couldn’t have done it without him.” Dominic stares at her for a long moment, at a loss for words, and she laughs. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m afraid your boyfriend has seen me naked.”

Dominic chokes out a laugh. “I… can’t believe he did that.”

“I know,” Natasha replies, deadpan. “I wouldn’t wanna see me naked either.”

Dominic feels himself go bright red in an instant, and his eyes widen. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know, Dominic,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes. “God, you’re making it way too easy for people to tease you, you know that?”

“Not on purpose,” he mumbles, trying his hardest to fight down the blush still burning in his cheeks.

Natasha chuckles. “Well, you do, anyway. It’s kinda cute.”

Dominic groans. “Not you as well.”

“What,” Natasha says, eyes narrowing. “Hal tell you you’re cute too?”

“That’s not what I…” Dominic starts, but is interrupted by a small noise from the direction of the window, and his eyes dart over to see the little bundle of blankets stir in the sleeping Tom’s hold. Tom’s arms tighten around the small body without even fully waking up, and a moment later, they are both fast asleep again.

“They’ve been like this for the last half hour at least,” Natasha says, and Dominic looks back over to her to see her eyeing the pair with an expression full of love and tenderness. “Full moon last night, he’s always exhausted the next day. Kinda half woke up about ten minutes ago when the baby moved, mumbled something along the lines of ‘Eve, go back to sleep’, and promptly nodded off again. One of the nurses asked if I wanted the baby back with me for a bit, but I just couldn’t split them up.”

Dominic’s gaze drifts back over to the window, and he tries to get a slightly better look at the small pink head poking out of the top end of the blanket. 

“What’s his name?” he asks, and Natasha lets out a breathy laugh.

“It’s Tom,” she says. “You might have met him before, seeing as he lives at the same house as y—” She breaks off as Dominic gives her an exasperated look, then quickly averts her eyes, and he is sure he can see the faintest hint of a blush creeping into her face when she says, “Adie.”

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “As in… Adrian?” he asks, an image of his insufferable work colleague floating across his mind’s eye.

“No,” Natasha says, clearing her throat, and now he can most definitely see the deep red blush colouring her cheeks. “It’s… his initials,” she explains, eyes fixed on the baby. “A.D. It stands for…” she trails off, bites her lip, and he gives her a scrutinising look.

“For…?” he prompts.

Her eyes dart over to him then, and she looks him dead in the eye when she says, “Anthony Dominic. After Tom’s dad, and…”

Dominic’s eyes widen, and a large lump suddenly materialises in his throat. “Tasha,” he croaks, staring at her in utter disbelief. “I… I don’t know what to s—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she says quickly, looking down at her own hands. “It’s all right. So I named my baby after you. It’s… not that big a deal.”

“I…” he starts, then pauses, shakes his head. “No, you’re right. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe I’m just…” He clears his throat, adds, “Is Hal still around? I need to… talk to him.” He looks around the small, quiet bay for a moment, before his gaze drops back to Natasha on the bed.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding frantically and giving him an unreadable look. “He’s… he’s gone out to get some fresh air. Should still be around somewhere. The café maybe?”

Dominic swallows and nods briskly. “Thanks, I’ll... look there.” Then, without his conscious input, his gaze wanders over to the sleeping werewolf and baby again, and he smiles. “Adie,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I like it.”

Then he turns on his heels and, before Natasha has any chance to reply, makes his way out through the large double doors.

***

Tom awakes with a crick in his neck and the distant sound of voices, one male, one female, echoing at the edge of his consciousness.

His eyes flutter open and fall at once on the tiny, motionless bundle in his lap, and his arms tighten around him reflexively.

“Hey lil’ man,” he says sleepily. “Havin’ a snooze as well, are ya?”

“He’s been through quite the ordeal, if you think about it,” Natasha’s voice drifts over from the bed, and Tom looks up to find her watching him with a smile on her face. 

“Yeah, but so’ve you, an’ you’re not sleepin’,” he points out, a small smile playing on his own lips.

Natasha laughs. “No, but hell do I feel like it. I feel like my insides have been ripped apart…” she drifts off, frowns. “But then again, who am I to tell you that? You probably go through a lot worse every month.”

“That ain’t the same, Tasha,” Tom says, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah, I’m kinda tired an’ achy an’ stuff the next day, bu’ it’s not like givin’ birth.”

Natasha bites her lip. “Granted, I’d rather not go through that every month for the rest of my life.” A thoughtful look passes over her face as her eyes come to rest on the baby in his arms. “Do you think he is?” she asks, then looks around, lowers her voice and adds, “A… werewolf, I mean?”

Tom’s brow creases, and he follows her gaze to the little face poking out of the blankets. Almost as if on cue, Adie’s eyes open, and he blinks up at Tom sleepily for a second before, without warning, he goes beetroot red and starts into an earsplitting cry. Tom lifts him up against his chest, gently patting his back and cooing to calm him down, but Adie is not so easily discouraged. 

“I think he wants ya, Tasha,” Tom says, before he carefully lifts himself out of the armchair and crosses the short distance to the bed. 

“Hey, come here, little man,” Tasha says quietly, taking him from her and setting him down against her chest to feed, and almost instantly, there is silence again. Tom watches them for a long moment, unmoving, eyes fixed on the woman he loves and their newborn child, and there is a warmth spreading in his chest the like of which he has never experienced before. 

“I love ya both,” he whispers, and Natasha looks up at him with a bright smile. 

“Love you too, Tom,” she says, a glint coming into her eyes as she looks him up and down. “But hell am I going to love you more once you’ve had a shower and a change of clothes.”

Tom feels a fierce blush climb up the back of his neck, and he quickly looks down. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and Natasha sighs.

“I was teasing you, Thomas,” she says with a long-suffering smile, but then her expression sobers up again, and she adds, “So, do you? Think he might be?”

Tom looks thoughtful for a moment, before he shakes his head and says, “Nah, don’t think so. Eve weren’t, an’ both ‘er parents were werewolves.”

“Huh,” says Natasha, glancing back down at the feeding baby. “Guess there’s only one way to really be sure.”

“Yeah,” says Tom, nodding. “Kinda been there once before. Jus’… please let’s not lock ‘im up in a cat carrier?”

Natasha chokes out a laugh. “A… what? Do I even wanna know?”

“Nah,” Tom says nonchalantly. “Jus’… let’s not do it.”

“Agreed,” she says, nodding, while Adie keeps feeding, completely undisturbed, and in that moment Tom is sure that he loves them both more than he ever thought possible before.

***

Dominic lets his eyes wander across the large, busy room that is the hospital café, until they fall on a lone figure sitting at a table in the far corner of the room, a nondescript white mug filled with some kind of hot beverage clasped between his hands and a deep frown on his face. 

As if he can somehow sense his presence, Hal looks up, and their eyes meet across the large room. As soon as he sees him, Hal’s frown morphs into a beautiful smile, and as much as he tries, Dominic can’t keep a smile from spreading on his own lips at the sight. 

“You made it,” Hal says, and Dominic nods, hovering for a moment in front of the small table.

“I did.”

“Have y—” Hal starts, but never gets to finish the sentence as in that moment, Dominic’s eyes fall on the black and blue shading of the side of Hal’s jaw, and he steps forward, tilts Hal’s chin up to get a better look and, in a voice as icy as the night, asks, “Who did this to you?”

To his surprise, Hal’s lip curve up in a smile even as he winces at the touch, and he says, “That would’ve been Natasha.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “What?”

Hal laughs. “Yes. She… let’s say she let me know once and for all what she thinks of me and what I’ve done to you. That was before I helped her deliver the baby, of course.”

“She… punched you?” Dominic asks faintly, and Hal lifts his eyebrows and nods.

“She’s got a mean right hook.”

Dominic stares at him for a moment longer, his mind starting to reel with all the new information he has learned since arriving at the hospital. Then he slowly shakes his head and asks, “She punched you because of _me_?”

“Indeed,” Hal confirms, and Dominic lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh.

“And you still helped her deliver the baby?” he continues.

Hal nods. “I did.”

“And you…” Dominic starts, but then trails off and shakes his head. Curling his fingers under Hal’s chin to tilt his face up again, mindful of the ugly bruise along his jaw, he leans in and presses a soft, gentle kiss to Hal’s lips. It takes Hal only a split second to respond, and Dominic feels a shiver running down his spine as one of Hal’s hands loosely snakes around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, soft lips brushing against his, curved into a smile.

Pulling back the tiniest fraction, just enough to get some actual air into his lungs, he breathes “Thank you” against Hal’s lips, his fingers moving from under Hal’s chin to lightly brush against the stubble on his cheek. “Thank you,” he repeats, before, with one more gentle brush of lips against lips, he pulls away for good, lets himself slide into the chair across from Hal, blue eyes gazing deeply into hazel ones.

“I’m… glad I could help,” Hal says quietly, and Dominic stares at him with astonishment. 

“How did you even know… I mean… have you ever done anything like that before?”

Hal chuckles. “You know, she asked me the same question.”

“Well, I guess she had a point?” Dominic says, eyebrows raised, and Hal only chuckles harder.

“No, Dominic, I’ve never done that before,” he says, shaking his head. “I merely… watched… more or less unwittingly, when…” he pauses, looks down at the mug in his hands, a deep sigh escaping his lips before he adds, “when a couple of my ‘brothers and sisters’ were born, if you get my drift.”

Dominic’s eyes grow wide, and a sharp ache courses through his chest at the thought that there had been other children like Hal, born into the same unfortunate circumstances. And of course there would have been, yet he never really even thought about it before. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, not even entirely sure what it is that he is sorry for. Looking back at Hal, he sees him watching him with a slight frown on his face.

“You don’t need to keep apologising for my terrible childhood, Dominic,” he says seriously. “It’s something that happened to me, a long, long time before you were even born. You have no responsibility for what happened.”

“I never said I did,” Dominic replies, and reaches out a hand to take hold of Hal’s across the table. Hal’s eyes dart down to their joint hands, surprised, before coming back up to meet his own. “I merely said I feel sorry for what happened, and I do. I can’t begin to imagine—”

“No,” Hal cuts in. “You can’t. And I wouldn’t ever want you to. But enough about me already,” he adds, a small smile slipping onto his lips. “I take it you’ve been to see Tasha and the baby?”

“Yeah,” Dominic says, and his forehead creases and a sudden lump rises back into his throat when he quietly says, “She named him after me, Hal. After… after everything that… happened to me, she still… I don’t even—”

“Of course she did,” Hal says, giving him a meaningful look, and Dominic’s frown deepens. 

“What do you mean, of course?”

Hal snorts. “I mean that it’s hardly surprising given the fact that she’s been madly in love with you for basically her whole life.”

Dominic freezes, his eyes impossibly wide and staring back at Hal, who is looking at him with with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hal asks after a moment of complete silence, and it takes Dominic another few seconds to actually find his voice.

“She… what?” he croaks, and Hal’s expression changes to one of pure incredulity.

“Are you telling me you didn’t know? You actually didn’t…?”

“No,” Dominic says, shaking his head brusquely. “I… you’re telling me that… but… no…” He shakes his head again, frowns. “No, I’m sure you must be mistaken, she—”

“She told me, Dominic,” Hal says calmly, intertwining his fingers with Dominic’s on the table. “And by that I mean she confirmed it after I pretty much figured it out myself, as would anyone else who ever saw her interact with you for more than five seconds.”

“But…” Dominic whispers, eyes darting down to the surface of the table. “But I never… how could I not…”

“Never mind that,” Hal says gently, reaching out his free hand to lift Dominic’s face back up to look at him. His fingers linger for a little longer than they strictly have to, brushing along the side of his jaw, and he swallows thickly. “If you’d known,” Hal continues, looking deeply into his eyes, “would it have changed anything?”

Dominic looks back at him in silence for a long moment. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“No,” Hal agrees, a small smile settling on his lips. “Exactly.”

Dominic smiles hesitantly back at him, brushing the tips of his fingers against the palm of Hal’s hand on the table between them, when suddenly something occurs to him, and he narrows his eyes at their joint hands, a cold shiver running through him as he looks back up.

“Hal?” he asks, not missing the look of alarm on Hal’s face, or the way he immediately pulls his hand away and drops it into his own lap. “Hal,” he says again, “have you—”

“No,” Hal says quickly, the set of his jaw and the cold distance in his eyes in jarring contrast to the closeness they shared only moments before. “I haven’t. I just… slightly overindulged in flasks after... you know there’s a lot of blood when you’re delivering a baby.” He gives Dominic a weak smile, but to Dominic it feels more like a punch in the chest.

“Yes, I’m sure there was, Hal,” he says, nostrils flaring as he stands up and backs away from the table. Raising his eyes briefly towards Hal, he regrets it immediately as he sees him looking back at him like a kicked puppy. He quickly averts his eyes, bile rising into his throat as he turns away. “I’ll see you later, I suppose,” he bites out through clenched teeth. “Don’t bother cooking dinner, I won’t eat it.”

And without looking back another time, he swiftly weaves his way through the busy café towards the exit.

***

Dominic is halfway through undoing his tie when there is a careful knock on the bedroom door. His eyes dart over towards the door before can stop himself, and another icy chill runs through him at the reminder of how he left Hal at the hospital earlier today. The fact that Hal thought he could get away with so blatantly lying to him, so shortly after their conversation and commitment to honesty, makes his stomach churn. 

Turning back towards the wardrobe, he finishes untying his tie and carefully loops it around the hanger that is already holding his suit jacket. His hands are halfway up to unbutton his shirt when there is another knock, this one paired with a muffled, “Dominic, please, let me talk to you.”

Dominic squeezes his eyes tightly shut for a moment, before, with a deep sigh, he says, “Come in.”

The door opens, and Hal steps into the room, shoulders slumped and eyes glued to the floor in front of him.

“You were right,” he says, so quietly that Dominic can barely make out the words. “I’m sorry.”

Dominic sighs. “What happened, Hal?”

Hal’s eyes meet his then, filled to the brim with apprehension, regret and a silent apology. He takes a deep breath and says, “Like I said, there was… a lot of blood. And I mean a _lot_ of blood. I was…” he drifts off, lets out a slightly hysterical laugh, “I was covered in it, Dominic, everything I was wearing was covered in it. And even after taking the clothes off, it clung to me, and the hunger… it just got too much, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What did you do?” Dominic asks, as calmly as he can, even as Hal’s words spark something in him, something he doesn’t want to think about, something that reminds him of a dark musty cellar and heaps of dead bodies and _so much blood_.

Hal doesn’t reply straight away, but his eyes dart around the room, towards the window, towards the bed, towards the floor, anywhere but at Dominic, before, with another deep, shaky sigh, he says, “It was Louise. She was there, and I asked her, and she let me. She’s fine. She’s left now. I don’t think she’ll be coming back.” His voice is flat, almost robotic by the end, and Dominic looks at him with alarm in his eyes.

“Hal? What do you mean, she’s not coming back?”

“I mean,” Hal says slowly, lifting his eyes to finally meet his own, “that she’s quit. She’s gone. I… I told her to get as far away from here as she can, and she agreed. Said she has some friends up in Wrexham.” He swallows, gives Dominic a meaningful look. “I meant what I said about being honest with you. I didn’t want this to stand between us, and I didn’t want her to become a threat to us, either now or in the future. I thought that I would be strong enough to resist, but I was wrong… again.” He lets out a grim, breathless chuckle, then turns pleading eyes on Dominic as he continues, “Please Dominic… please believe me that I want to make this work, we… we both want to make this work, and I’m so sick and tired of fucking up again and again. You were right, you know? I’ve had no fucking _ounce_ of self-control, and it’s about time that I show you that there is more to me than this. So this is it. That was the last time. From now on, there will be no more fresh blood. No more killing, no more taking advantage of people. I…” he pauses, takes a shaky breath, “I can’t lose you over this.”

Dominic looks back at him in stunned silence, and it is only now that he notices the tears glistening in Hal’s eyes. He swallows thickly, gives Hal a small nod, says, “Okay.”

Hal barks out a sharp laugh. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Dominic repeats with another nod. “And… thank you for being honest.”

Hal nods back at him, a small, sad smile passing his lips as he turns towards the door. “You’re welcome. And I’m sorry.”

He opens the door and is already halfway across the threshold when, without making any connection with his conscious brain, Dominic’s mouth opens and he calls, “Hal, stay.”

Hal freezes in the doorway, then slowly turns around, eyebrows almost meeting his hairline when he asks, “In here?”

Dominic nods, gives him an uncertain look. “Yes?”

Hal huffs out a short laugh, even as his lips form a bright, happy smile. He glances towards the narrow single bed, then back towards Dominic, and asks, “In there?”

“Yes?” Dominic says again, “It’s not like we’ve never shared that kind of bed before.”

“Once,” Hal points out. “Before we decided that it was too small and we needed a bigger one.”

“It was more than once,” Dominic corrects, “and the reason we felt we needed more space was because of… you know.”

“Do I?” Hal asks, giving him a teasing smile, and Dominic sighs.

“You do. And this would just be to sleep, so—”

“Why don’t you come next door?” Hal cuts in, and Dominic hates the note of hopefulness in his voice when he slowly shakes his head.

“No, Hal. I’m sorry, I’m not ready for that. This,” he says, indicating the narrow guest bed, “I’m okay with. Just this once, and just to sleep.”

Hal stares back at him for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, before he nods and says, “All right.”

“All right,” Dominic replies, bringing his hands back up to continue unbuttoning his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Hal doing the same, and before they know it, they are both standing across from each other in just their underwear. Dominic swallows, averts his eyes. “All right,” he says again, as he crosses the room towards the bed and lies down. The mattress dips down next to him a moment later, and he turns his head to see Hal climbing in beside him. “Just to sleep, Hal,” he reiterates, giving the other a meaningful look, before he turns around, facing away from Hal, and lies his head down on the old knobbly pillow. He can feel Hal’s proximity almost like an electric current between them as he settles down behind him, can feel the warmth from the fresh human blood coursing through Hal’s body almost like a vibration against his own skin, and he allows himself to bask in that feeling for a long moment. 

And if, a minute or so later, he feels Hal’s arm snake around his waist, and the palm of Hal’s hand settle flush against his stomach, he doesn’t say a word.

And if, another minute later, he feels the faintest ghost of a kiss brush against the nape of his neck, he doesn’t say anything either.

And for the first time since he moved into the guest room, he feels the cold, lonely emptiness lift from him. He lets his mind wander to Tom and Natasha and the baby, and to Hal’s heartfelt apology, and for the first time in a long time, he goes to sleep with a smile on his face. 


	29. Earning It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter of the year, finished just on time lol
> 
> Honestly, between work, Christmas and a really badly timed blood donation, I've just not had the time/energy/motivation to get this chapter written anywhere near as quickly as I would've liked, but I really wanted to get another chapter out before the new year, so here it is.
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading, I love you all, and a very happy New Year to you!

You came along to change the grade  
To raise the bar I'd made of late  
You came along to raise the stakes  
To tend to me and my mistakes  
I can't pretend that I could be  
The man you said you saw in me  
But hang around and I'll try and land this thing

\- The Cooper Temple Clause, “Blind Pilots”

 

When Dominic opens his eyes the next morning, it’s to notice three things.

One, he is once again alone in bed, with Hal’s close presence from last night nothing but a distant, aching memory.

Two, there is a strange, dark red object lying on the pillow next to him. Moving his head slightly backwards, the object slowly comes into focus, and his eyes widen when he recognises the shape of a rose, expertly folded from what looks like a deep red paper napkin.

Dominic feels his lips stretch into a smile as he picks it up and takes a closer look at the intricately shaped petals and leaves. “Creative indeed, Hal,” he mutters to himself, stretching across the bed to carefully place the rose down on the bedside table when his eyes fall on item number three, and his stomach gives an unexpected flutter.

There, on the bedside table, sits a familiar looking flask. He doesn’t even have to lift it up to know that it is filled to the brim with dark red blood. Dominic finds that, as much as he tries, he can’t tear his eyes away from it. His hand shakes ever so slightly as he reaches out to pick up the handwritten note that leans against it, and he reads Hal’s carefully crafted script,

_Good morning beautiful,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up, but I had to go into work to cover Tom’s shift. I hope you have a good day, and I’m still planning to cook you dinner. In the meantime, I thought you could probably do with this. Don’t worry, it’s mine._

_I love you._

_-Hal_

Dominic feels his mouth starting to water, and he swallows thickly, repeatedly, as he drops the note on the covers next to him and reaches out again, this time to pick up the flask itself. Despite his assurances to himself that it is safe, that Hal would never trick him into drinking actual human blood, he feels a nervous shiver running through him as he unscrews the top, and a small voice at the back of his mind speaks up to point out that, yes, there is a part of Hal that would very much do just that. 

_No,_ he counters straight away. _Even the other Hal wouldn’t do that to me. He despises the flasks. He would get me to actually go and kill someone if he had his way._

And his fingers lift the cap away from the flask, and his nostrils quiver as they are hit with the most delicious scent. Then all rational thought goes out the window when his world explodes in bright light and colours, and his tongue runs across the sharp, pointed fangs in his mouth. A memory of yesterday flashes through his mind, of the blood-spattered walls and floors and furniture and _bodies_ they found in the vampire hideout, of Mike’s thunderous heartbeat, so loud, so warm, so alive right next to him, and he doesn’t even realise he has lifted the flask up to his mouth until the sweet, thick liquid flows into his mouth. 

A small moan escapes his mouth as he swallows greedily, then tilts the flask up more, and more, and swallows and swallows until the last drop lands on his tongue, and with a disappointed sigh, he drops the flask into his lap, closing his eyes to savour the incredible taste for as long as he can hold on to it. And it’s potent, much more potent than Hal’s blood has been recently, and just like that his eyes fly open and widen for a moment when he remembers Louise. But there is a thrumming building under his skin, a pleasant, warm fuzziness filling his head, and he can’t hold on to those negative thoughts when the blood makes him feel like this, and he lets his head fall back on the pillow and just allows the feeling to take a hold of him for a long moment. 

He isn’t sure quite how much time has passed when he eventually rolls onto his side and sits up. The room slowly comes into focus around him, and he gets up, selects a casual change of clothes from the wardrobe, and makes his way to the bathroom. The house seems eerily quiet, with Tom most likely either still at the hospital with Tasha or over at her flat, and Hal having gone off to work, and he quickly strips off his boxers, turns on the shower and steps into the comforting, warm spray. A pleasant buzz is running through his body, just under his skin, making him feel calm and relaxed and refreshed and energised all at the same time, and it stays with him all through his shower, through drying himself off and getting dressed, and he still feels the effect of it when he slowly descends the stairs and steps through into the living room.

His eyes fall immediately on Alex, who is sitting at the bar, frantically typing away on her phone. Her head snaps up when she hears him approaching, and a small, surprised sound escapes her lips.

“Blondie, hey,” she says a little bit too loudly. “Don’t know why, but I thought you’d left for work already.”

Dominic lifts his eyebrows. “I’m not working today, Alex, it’s a Saturday,” he points out, his tongue feeling ever so slightly sluggish in his mouth. 

Alex frowns. “Have you been drinking?”

“I…” Dominic drifts off, lowers his eyes to the floor as he feels a violent blush colour his cheeks courtesy of Hal’s blood. “Maybe.”

“Uh huh,” Alex says, and out of the corner of his eye he can see her shaking her head. “It’s eight thirty in the morning, Dominic.”

He lifts his eyes to meet hers, eyebrows drawn together when he says, “It’s not like I’ve been drinking _alcohol_ , Alex. It’s just… Hal’s been…” he trails off, clears his throat, shrugs. “You know.”

Alex narrows her eyes and shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. Hal’s been what?”

“Drinking someone’s blood,” he says, trying and failing not to sound exasperated. “And it’s affecting me more because it’s fresh, but I hadn’t thought of that when I had it, and now I’ll just have to ride it out.” He pauses, smiles at her. “It’s not the worst of feelings, really.”

Alex scoffs. “Vampires. You’re basically just glorified junkies.” 

Dominic sighs and shrugs. “Basically, yes.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” she asks, frowning at him, and Dominic averts his eyes.

“There are a lot of things that bother me about my current situation, Alex,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, “but there is nothing I can do about it, so I just try to accept it and move on. I thought if anything you would be ‘pleased with my progress’?” The last few words drip thickly with sarcasm, and he looks back up when he can hear Alex sigh deeply.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she says seriously. “I know this has been difficult for you, and I shouldn’t make it any harder than it already is.”

“Thank you,” he replies, giving her a small smile, when Alex’s phone pings loudly, announcing the arrival of a new text message. Dominic’s eyes snap down to the phone lying on the bar, then back to Alex, who is stoically ignoring it, and he gives her a quizzical look. “New admirer?” he asks.

“Oh, no, nothing like that, just…” she drifts off, picks up the phone, has a quick read of the message, then puts it down again and glances back up at Dominic. “It’s nothing.”

Dominic holds her gaze for a long moment, before he lets out a sharp breath through his nostrils and says, “How’s Jamie holding up?”

Alex’s eyes widen. “What? No, this wasn’t…” She falters at Dominic’s sharp gaze, sighs and says, “All right, yeah. We’ve been talking again. He’s… not doing that well. He’s so fed up and bored, being cooped up like that in his parents’ back garden. I mean, I know how he feels, in a way.” She shrugs, and Dominic frowns.

“You’re fed up and bored as well?” he asks carefully.

“What do you think, pumpkin?” she asks, in a defeated sounding voice that he is not used to hearing from her, that even makes the silly nickname sound like a sad parody of itself. “I mean, think about it. Between you and Hal and Tom and Natasha, there isn’t really much of any of your attention left for me. And don’t get me wrong,” she adds quickly, “I’m happy for you guys. I mean, I will be, once you and Hal have sorted out whatever it is you’re trying to work through. And I’m happy for Tom and Natasha, I really am, I’m ecstatic that the baby’s all right and everything, but I haven’t even been to see him… him?” she asks, suddenly looking unsure, and he smiles and nods.

“Him,” he confirms. “Adie.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she says. “Anthony Dominic. Bet that came as a bit of a surprise.” She gives him a meaningful look.

“It did indeed,” he says with a blush and a smile, and she lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“Look, I’m not saying that any of you are responsible for me,” Alex continues after a moment, sobering up. “I’m just… a lot of the time recently I’ve felt kinda like a third wheel, and it’s… starting to get to me a bit, that’s all.” She smiles at him, and it is a small, subdued smile that somehow looks foreign and wrong on her face. Then, a split second later, it is gone, replaced by a big eye roll and an exasperated expression when she says, “Makes me wonder when I’m finally going to find out what my unfinished business is so I can get out of here.” Dominic’s eyes widen, and he can do nothing but stare at her for a long moment, until her brow creases and she asks, “What?”

“Is… that what you want?” he asks, his throat suddenly feeling dry and raspy.

Alex shrugs. “It’s what’s supposed to happen, isn’t it?”

Dominic frowns. “Yes, but—”

“I mean, shit, I’ve seen Mary. No way am I going to end up like that,” Alex cuts in, and Dominic’s frown deepens.

“Mary?” he asks, vaguely remembering Alex mentioning her before, but unable to attribute any more information to the name.

“A ghost,” Alex clarifies. “One of Hal’s victims. He…” she pauses, huffs. “He went back to visit her once a year for two hundred and fifty years. She turned down Doors because she thought she was helping him. You should ask him about it sometime.”

“I… might do that,” Dominic says, trying to process what he has just heard. “Two hundred and fifty years?”

Alex nods. “Yep. And let me tell you, after meeting her, I’m pretty sure no ghost should be trapped here for that long. She was… something else, was Mary.” 

“What happened to her?” Dominic asks, intrigued despite himself. “Did she get her Door?”

“No,” Alex replies, shrugging. “Far as I know, she’s still out there somewhere. As long as she stays away from Hal, it’s all good though.”

Dominic freezes. “What do you mean, stay away from Hal?” he asks, while in his mind’s eye, he sees a ghost with vibrant red hair, giving him a scrutinising look. 

_“Are you pals with him?”_

_“With who?”_

_“The guy I’m looking for. The guy that… well, you could say, started all of this.”_

Alex gives him a wide-eyed look. “Well, ‘cause she tried to kill him last time she was here? I managed to stop her that time, but I wouldn’t wanna take chances.”

Dominic frowns. “She tried to kill him? As revenge?”

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, nodding. “To be honest, I’m surprised no one else has tried. I would’ve happily killed Cutler if I had the chance, but Annie got there before me.”

Dominic looks at her for a long moment, a deep frown line on his brow, before he finally shakes his head. “Well, let’s just hope it stays that way.”

“Uh huh,” says Alex, before her eyes narrow, and she asks, “So you and Hal have made up then?”

Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up at the sudden change of topic. “Mostly,” he admits, and Alex gives him a teasing smile.

“Mostly.”

“Yes, Alex, mostly,” he repeats, holding her gaze, and he sees a glint appear in her eyes.

“Ah, so you’re gonna make him work for it. That explains it,” she says, laughing quietly, and he frowns again.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Alex says nonchalantly. “Just… I don’t know… found him rummaging around in the pantry this morning, muttering something about napkins and dinner plans. Then he asked me if I had any ‘plans for the evening’ – as if I _ever_ go out,” she pauses, rolls her eyes, and he can’t help but smile back at her, “before he finally asked me to cut his hair.”

Dominic chuckles. “He did?”

“Oh yeah,” Alex replies, nodding. “I hope I didn’t mess it up too bad.” Dominic lets out a quiet laugh, and Alex joins in as well, laughing along with him for a moment before she sobers up and adds, “He really loves you, you know. Whatever he – or the other he – has done, with Jamie, or… whatever, it’s not because he doesn’t love you.”

Dominic sighs and nods. “I know that.”

“I thought you did,” Alex says, biting her lip. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Thanks,” Dominic says with a small smile, while his eyes wander away from her, across the room, and finally come to settle on the table by the window, which currently holds a chess set with what looks like a half-finished game. He gives Alex a curious look. “Been playing against yourself?” he asks, and she gives a dramatic sigh.

“I told you I’m bored.”

“Fancy a game?” he asks.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she throws him a wicked smile. “Sure, but let me tell you, I’m formidable at chess.”

He meets her smile with a matching one of his own and says, “I played poker against the Devil once. I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

Her eyes widen almost comically, and for a moment there is complete silence, before she bursts out laughing. “Who won?” she asks faintly.

“Don’t know,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible. “We never finished. But I did kill him, so…”

“Smug bastard,” Alex says, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’ll wipe that smile right off of your face, just you wait.”

“Mmmh, good luck,” he says, and sits down at the table across from her. 

Game on.

***

Three hours and two merciless defeats later, walking along the hospital corridor towards the maternity ward, Dominic decides that drinking blood quite clearly wreaks havoc with his logical thinking ability. It does, however, also silence the ever present burning hunger inside of him, leaving him calm and relaxed and dampening down the sense of trepidation he feels at seeing Natasha again, after what Hal told him about her yesterday. Almost as if on cue, he can hear the unmistakable sound of Natasha’s voice and laughter drifting through the double doors before he even sets foot in the bay.

“Yeah, can you imagine?… No… No, he was great actually… Yeah… Yeah… No, he didn’t… Yes, I’ll make sure I keep myself safe… To be honest, I don’t think he’d dare hurt me, with—… Yeah… Yeah, I know, I promise I’ll be careful…” Her head snaps up in his direction when she hears him approach, and she sends a small, tentative smile his way, which he promptly reciprocates, Hal’s blood in his system making it so much easier for him to focus on what is important. “Listen, Lou, I’ve got to go,” Tasha says then, and Dominic’s eyes widen. “Yeah… Yeah, no, just got a visitor. You take care, and I’ll talk to you later.” With that, she ends the call, and puts the phone down on the small table next to the bed. “Hey, Dracula,” she says with a small, impish smile.

Dominic narrows his eyes at her, but decides not to reward her with a response. Instead, he asks, “Lou? As in Louise? From the hotel?”

“Yeah,” Tasha says, nodding. “She’s… left. Gone to stay with some friends up in—”

“Wrexham,” Dominic says, and Natasha’s brow creases.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Hal told me,” he says, a faraway look in his eyes as he thinks back to their conversation last night. “It’s… good to know that she’s all right.”

There is a beat of silence before Natasha says, “I take it that means you also know why she left.”

Dominic nods and looks over towards the window. “I do.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Natasha nodding. “This has to stop, Dominic,” she says. “I know what you’re going to say, he didn’t kill anyone this time. But he… he can’t just go around drinking people’s blood like that, it’s not right.”

Dominic feels a particularly strong tingle under his skin at that very moment, reminding him of what conceivably used to be Louise’s blood coursing through his veins, and he hums quietly and says, “I know what you’re saying, Tasha, but as you already pointed out, he didn’t kill anyone.”

He turns back around to her when she doesn’t reply straight away, and finds her looking at him with a dark expression on her face. “Just because you’re somehow into that kind of thing – something I’ll never _ever_ understand by the way – doesn’t mean you can just assume that everyone else would happily let one of you guys suck on their neck, Dominic,” she says. “I think Lou was quite weirded out by the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry about that, Tasha,” he says carefully, forehead creasing as he looks back at her. “And I’m not saying that everyone would. I... I’m not looking for anyone to… never mind that. What I’m trying to say is that he didn’t do anything she didn’t consent to, and no one got hurt.”

“Well—”

“I mean no one got hurt anymore than previously agreed,” he continues, and she sighs.

“Yeah, I guess. I still…” she pauses, frowns, deep in thought for a moment, before a quiet noise from the direction of the cot next to the bed makes her look up. “Oh, hey, little man,” she says, with a smile towards the cot. “I was wondering when you’d be waking up.” 

Dominic’s eyes follow hers to the small body in the cot, and he can’t suppress the smile that spreads on his lips at and hearing the baby coo quietly and contently to himself, big blue eyes roaming wondrously across the ceiling. 

“You haven’t really said hello to him yet, have you?” Natasha asks then, and Dominic looks up at her, frowning.

“I…”

“Would you like to hold him?” she continues, smiling encouragingly at him, and his eyes widen.

“I’m really not sure—”

“You’re his godfather, Dominic,” Natasha points out, as his gaze travels nervously back and forth between her and the baby.

“Yes, but, Tasha, I can’t be trusted—”

“I trust you a hell of a lot more than Hal,” she cuts in, giving him a significant look. “And he helped me fucking _give birth_ to him, so…”

Dominic looks at the baby for a long, silent moment, before eventually, he nods and says, “All right.” She smiles brightly at him as he leans down and carefully lifts the tiny body out of the cot. Adie’s big eyes fix on his, and the small face crumples into a frown as he lets out a quiet, surprised noise. “I’m not sure he likes me,” Dominic says, never taking his eyes off the baby in his arms, and he can hear Natasha huff.

“Why wouldn’t he like you?” she asks. “He’s only just met you.”

 _Because, perhaps, he can sense what I am, and it unsettles him,_ Dominic can’t help but think, but decides not to voice the thought. 

Natasha, however, may have followed a similar train of thought anyway, as the next moment, she asks, “Dominic? Does he… does he smell like a werewolf to you?”

He looks up to find her giving him a thoughtful look. “I beg your pardon?” he asks, almost automatically, and she sighs. 

“You guys… you can tell, usually, can’t you? If someone is a werewolf? I just thought… I thought maybe you would know.” She gives him a small, uncertain smile and a shrug, and he swallows hard as he closes his eyes and takes a careful, experimental sniff.

“No,” he says eventually, opening his eyes to meet hers. “He doesn’t smell like a werewolf to me, Tasha.”

She smiles. “Well, that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he says, returning her smile. 

A comfortable silence falls over them for a long moment, before Natasha says, “See? Told you you’d be just fine with him.”

Dominic’s eyes fall back down on Adie, who, to his immense surprise, seems to have gone back to sleep. “Yes,” he says quietly, a crease in his brow as he watches the sleeping baby in his arms, “I suppose I really am.”

***

Dominic isn’t sure exactly how much time he spent at the hospital with Tasha and the baby, but he is more than a little surprised when he steps out of the hospital doors and finds that it is already fully dark outside. Taking a deep gulp of the cold, crisp January air, he feels a bright smile grow on his face, and it doesn’t die down all the way back to Barry, where he parks the car on the road outside and swiftly makes his way up the narrow path to the front door. 

He frowns slightly when he notices that the front room lies in complete darkness, only the faintest of glows making it through the fully drawn blinds in front of the large bay window. Searching through his pocket for his keys, he almost jumps out of his skin when the door swings open in front of him, and there stands Hal, wiping his hands on a tea towel and throwing him a wide smile.

“Hey beautiful,” Hal says, and despite the undeniable urge to roll his eyes, Dominic feels warmth creeping into his cheeks at the endearment. 

“Hey yourself,” he replies, looking past Hal and through the porch into the hallway, and Hal promptly steps aside to let him walk through. Dominic takes a step into the living room, and his breath sticks in his throat when his gaze falls onto the dining table, which is expertly set for two with their best china, two oversized red wine glasses, and a tall candle burning in the middle of it providing the only light in the otherwise almost completely dark room. A vaguely familiar smell wafts over to him from the direction of the kitchen, and his nostrils flare, trying and failing to fully place it. “Hal…” he whispers, turning around to find Hal standing behind him, looking at him with big, expectant eyes. “When you said you were going to cook dinner…”

“Remember the first time I said I would cook dinner for you?” Hal asks, a hesitant note in his voice, and Dominic nods.

“Of course. How could I forg—” He suddenly cuts himself off, and his eyes widen when he recognises the smell. “You’ve made the tagine,” he says, a statement, not a question, and Hal smiles and nods. 

“I did indeed. I remembered how much you liked it, and I… well.” He looks down, swallows. “I felt that I have a lot to make up for, so…”

Dominic feels a smile grow on his face as he takes another look around the room, before a thought occurs to him, and he whirls back around to Hal, giving him an uncertain look. “What about A—”

“Alex has gone out,” Hal says quickly, gesturing for Dominic to walk over towards the table. “I’m not exactly sure where she’s gone, probably to help Tom redecorate the nursery. But she’s not coming back any time soon, so we’ve got the house to ourselves for the foreseeable future.”

“If you’re sure,” Dominic says, taking a seat in the chair closest to him. Looking up, he sees Hal smiling at him from across the table, hazel eyes sparkling in the dim, flickering candlelight.

“Perfectly sure,” he says. “Relax, Dominic. Everything is taken care of.”

“Well, in that case,” Dominic replies, holding Hal’s gaze for a long moment, “show me what you’ve got, Mr Yorke.”

“Un instant, monsieur,” Hal says, and Dominic laughs as he watches him disappear through the swinging doors in an exaggerated flurry. Less than a minute later, he is back carrying two plates, and he carefully places one down in front of Dominic. “Voilà, monsieur. Bon appétit,” he says with a wink and a smile, before sitting down across from him, and Dominic laughs again.

“You do realise I don’t actually speak French?” he says, big eyes fixed on Hal, who gives him a disbelieving look. 

“You don’t?” he asks, reaching for the bottle of wine on one side of the table and pouring them both a generous amount. 

Dominic shakes his head again, a faint blush once again making its way into his cheeks. “No. I mean, I did a bit of French at school, but I was never particularly good at it.”

“Well, now, that complicates things a little bit,” Hal mutters under his breath, a thoughtful expression on his face, and Dominic feels his own brow creasing.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Hal says a little too quickly, giving him a small smile. “Although I find it hard to believe that there were things at school that you weren’t good at.”

“I… guess I had more of a scientific mind,” Dominic says, smiling back at him, and Hal huffs.

“Scientific? You mean learning about vampires and werewolves?”

“And ghosts,” Dominic adds. “Don’t forget ghosts.”

“Of course not,” says Hal, nodding and raising his wine glass in Dominic’s direction, and Dominic does the same before taking a careful sip of the excellent Rioja Reserva.

“I understand that you are proficient in quite a few different languages yourself,” he says after a moment, placing his glass back down and lifting up his knife and fork, and Hal smiles at him across the table.

“Si, signore, lo sono davvero,” he says, and Dominic chuckles.

“Italian?” he asks.

“Yes,” Hal says, and he is still smiling at him, but there is a different quality to that smile now, one that has Dominic’s hand holding his fork hovering in midair in front of his mouth, as he can’t tear his eyes away from Hal as the other picks up the napkin next to his plate and, right there in front of his eyes, starts folding it into another beautiful paper rose. “Eine Rose für Sie, mein Herr,” Hal says, holding the finished flower out across the table towards Dominic, who takes it with a quiet huff, even as he can’t quite keep the smile off his face.

“Show off.”

“What?” Hal asks with a wide-eyed, innocent look. “You don’t like it if I show off my talents?” 

This time, the blush is more than a faint hint of colour in his cheeks, and Dominic has to work hard not to choke on the piece of beef tagine he just put in his mouth. 

“Careful,” Hal says, and Dominic lifts his eyes to see him still looking at him with that infuriatingly innocent expression on his face. “You don’t want to choke to death on a piece of meat.”

And if it wasn’t for the fact that he was already, technically, dead, Dominic is pretty sure that he might have done just that.

***

Alex’s eyes wander around the dimly lit bar for a long moment, before they come to rest on a slim figure with a mop of blond hair sitting hunched over at an otherwise unoccupied table at the back of the room, one hand absentmindedly tapping the edge of the table while his eyes are glued on the phone screen in front of him. 

“Jeez, you look like shit,” she says loudly as she approaches the table, and his head whips up, big blue eyes focusing on her.

He huffs. “Yeah, except I _can’t_ look like shit, because I can’t look any different to the way I looked when I fucking died. But thanks for the compliment, anyway.”

Alex gives him a wry smile as she lets herself fall into the seat across from him. “You’re welcome, pumpkin. So,” she adds, letting her eyes wander around the slightly dingy looking bar again. “What’s the story with this place?”

“I used to work here,” Jamie explains with a sigh. “I… sometimes like to come back, just to see how everyone’s getting on, you know.”

“Fair enough,” says Alex, following his eyes around the room for a moment, taking in the smiley dark haired girl and tall, bulky guy behind the bar and trying to imagine Jamie, alive and breathing, in amongst them. For some reason, the thought makes her chest constrict. Her eyes dart back around to him when he clears his throat.

“So, what brings you out tonight, anyway?” he asks, giving her a quizzical look, and she sighs.

“Oh, it’s just Hal trying to make up for stuff,” she says before she can stop herself. Jamie freezes at the mention of the name, and her eyes widen. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jamie says, even though she can still hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. “He’s got a fair amount of stuff to make up for, after all.”

Alex gives him a sad smile. “That he does.”

Returning her smile, Jamie asks, “Mind telling me what’s he planned?”

“Are you sure you really want to hear about this?” Alex asks back immediately. “I mean, we can talk about something else if you’d r—”

“I’d like to hear it,” Jamie says, giving her a piercing look, and she finds herself quickly nodding.

“Of course. He’s… doing a candlelit dinner, I think.”

Jamie lets out a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, he’s good at those. Romantic dinners. Well, I hope the other guy—”

“Dominic,” Alex throws in, and Jamie meets her eyes and nods.

“— _Dominic_ appreciates it as much as… I hope he likes it,” he finishes quickly, averting his eyes, and Alex frowns.

“You really cared about him,” she says, and his eyes dart back to her, sharp as a knife. 

“So what if I did? He killed me. I’m dead now. He can be back with his vampire lover as much as he wants, I don’t care anymore.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Alex says, “I went on a date with him once, you know.”

Jamie’s eyes grow almost impossibly wide. “Was he the one—”

“No!” Alex says quickly. “No, it wasn’t him, but… it was a… friend of his. An ex-boyfriend of his, in actual fact,” she adds, scowling. “And it was because of our date that I was… targeted.”

Jamie shakes his head. “How can you stand being friends with him –  _living_ with him – after everything he’s done?”

Alex holds his gaze for a long moment, then shrugs and says, “Because I know he’s not a bad person, really. He’s trying so hard to be better. He and Dominic have been working on… there’s… a lot more to this than you’re aware of, Jamie. More than I feel comfortable discussing with you right now. And I know that doesn’t make up for the fact that he killed you, it never could, but… I just feel that he deserves another chance.”

Jamie gives her a sad smile. “How many has he had before?”

“That’s not the point,” Alex says, shaking her head, and Jamie sighs.

“Fair enough. Just don’t expect me to forgive him.”

“I don’t.”

“Good,” he says, giving her a small, but genuine smile. “Man, this is one hell of a fucked up situation.”

“Welcome to my life,” Alex says, then frowns and adds, “I mean death.”

“Yeah, I… know what you mean,” Jamie says, chuckling quietly, and a comfortable silence descends on their table. That is until a loud laugh rings out a short distance away, and Alex looks up to see a smiling woman in her twenties, a glass of white wine clutched in one hand and her girlfriend’s hand in the other, leading her across the bar and ambling over towards their table, and Alex and Jamie just about manage to slip away before the couple sit down literally right on top of them. 

Pulling Alex away from the table by her jacket sleeve, Jamie lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh as he stares, wide-eyed, at the couple now occupying their table. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, and Alex can’t help but join in his laughter. 

“Yep. That’s what happens when you’re a ghost. That’s one reason I’ve pretty much given up going out in public. Plus, if I go with any of my friends other than you, they get some really odd looks for talking to thin air.”

“Well, you’ll just have to go out with me then,” Jamie replies, smiling and winking at her, and she laughs.

“You got it, sweetpea.”

They slowly make their way through the bar towards the exit, avoiding to walk through anybody as it fills up with Saturday night patrons.

Once outside, they start walking silently along the busy road, then down to the promenade. Jamie walks up to the railing that separates the walkway from the beach, gripping it with both hands for a moment before he turns around to her again, giving her a long, pensive look. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Ooh, now I’m worried,” she says, and his eyes narrow.

“You’re an arse,” he mutters, and she laughs.

“Go ahead, Jim, what’ve you been thinking?”

“Err… don’t call me that please?” Jamie says in a pained voice, and she only laughs harder.

“Sorry, James.”

“Or that.”

“Fine then, Jamie. What’ve you been thinking?”

He lets his gaze wander down to the dark, glistening water, staring off into the distance for a moment, before he turns back to her and says, “I was going to go travelling. After uni. I had it all planned out, I was going to get on a plane and just… go wherever I felt like, to see the world, experience other cultures, you know. Get out of Wales, most of all. And now… now I’m stuck here, not even just in Barry, but in my parents’ fucking back garden, and I’ll be here until… whatever happens, happens and I can finally find some peace. I mean… isn’t that fucked up?”

“Yeah. If you put it like that,” Alex says, nodding.

He mirrors her nod and says, “Yeah. It is. And it made me think… What if I still do it anyway?”

Alex frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says, biting his lip and giving her an uncertain look, “I can rent-a-ghost, right? I can go wherever I want, in a heartbeat.”

Alex’s eyes widen. “Oh… no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But why not?” he asks, frowning.

Alex takes a deep breath. “I remember Hal telling me—”

“To be honest, I don’t really care for anything _he_ has to say,” Jamie cuts in, and she sighs.

“Please, Jamie, hear me out. He might not be your favourite person in the world, but he _is_ over five hundred years old, and he knows a lot about this kind of stuff.”

Jamie turns back towards the water and lets out a quiet groan. “All right then, say what you’ve got to say.”

“Thank you,” she says, and Jamie gives her a small nod without looking at her. Sighing, she continues, “Basically, what he said was that… for a ghost to stick around in this plane, we need to be… tethered to something. Like a real, physical thing, usually the place that we died, I think, or somewhere we feel comfortable and safe.”

“Like the annexe for me,” Jamie says, “or the B&B for you.”

“Exactly,” Alex says, nodding. “That, and also the people that I’m with – Tom and Hal and Dominic. Hal said that Annie – she was another ghost who lived at the house before me – she basically just… drifted away and disappeared when she felt that her friends had left her, because there was nothing left tying her to this world anymore.”

Jamie is silent for a long moment, staring out at the quiet sea. “So you think that, if I left…”

“You would lose the tie to your room, to your family,” she says. “At least that’s what I think would happen. But I’d really rather you didn’t just… drift away on the breeze.”

“Oh no?” Jamie asks, finally turning around to her again, and there is a small, teasing smile playing on his lips.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s nice to have a ghost pal around.”

Jamie chuckles. “Is that what I am? Your ghost pal?”

“Of course you’re my ghost pal,” she says, joining in his laughter. “Now, back to yours? ‘Cause I really don’t want to walk in on Hal and Dominic doing… God knows what.” She grimaces, and he only hesitates for a split second before he lets out another laugh.

“Yeah, no. Back to mine then I guess.”

And she follows him back along the promenade in the direction of his parents’ house.

***

“So then I said, ’No way are you more than four hundred years old and you’re still not an old one.’ And he glares at me in that way that he has and says, ‘I don’t care about your exclusive little club, Lord Hal, I believe in the power of knowledge.”

“Well, to be fair,” Dominic chokes out between bouts of breathless laughter, “he did kind of have a point. I mean, his knowledge led us to be able to defeat the Devil.” He looks across the table at Hal, who has been watching him with a bright smile on his face, and is now joining in his laughter.

“Yes, I do give him that,” he concedes, and they share another quiet laugh.

“He called you ‘Lord Hal’?” Dominic asks once the laughter has died down. “Seriously?”

“Oh yes,” Hal says, wide-eyed and nodding. “Everyone did back then.”

Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up. “And you didn’t think to let them in on the fact that it wasn’t actually ‘Lord Hal’ who was in charge back then?”

Hal huffs. “What makes you think I didn’t enjoy having a title like that myself?”

“Is that so?” Dominic asks, eyes twinkling. Hal nods, and he smiles softly and says, “Well, in that case, thank you for an excellent meal, _Lord Hal_.”

“Mmmh, you’re welcome,” Hal says, and Dominic blinks at the sudden change in the tone of his voice. “I do love it when you call me that, my Dominic.”

“Hi, Hal,” Dominic chokes out through the sudden, inexplicable tightness in his throat.

Hal smiles brightly at him. “Dominic. So all it took for you to forgive him was a well-cooked romantic dinner, was it?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Dominic says, unable to tear his eyes away from Hal. “I never actually had to forgive him in the first place. It’s you that should be apologising.”

Hal lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, I was waiting for this moment to happen,” he says, and Dominic’s eyes narrow.

“What moment?” he asks hesitantly.

Hal gives him a long, hard look. “Whatever he promised you, Dominic,” he says, in that self-assured voice that leaves Dominic in no doubt that he is talking to the other one now, “Whatever he said to you to placate you and get you back on our side after my… unfortunate misstep—”

“Unfortunate misstep?” Dominic echoes, giving him a disbelieving look.

Hal waves an impatient hand at him and continues, “The point I was trying to make was, we are vampires, Dominic. We are apex predators, not zoo animals to be locked away and fed to be kept docile. You can’t seriously expect me to just… exist… like this… without killing anyone ever again.”

“I don’t,” Dominic says, holding Hal’s gaze with a steely one of his own, and a grim smile spreads on his lips when he sees Hal’s eyes fractionally widen. “I never believed that he was speaking for both of you when he said that,” he continues. “And I’m too much of a realist to think that I’ll be able to keep you from killing forever. All I want from you, Hal, is what I already asked of you once before. That you are open and honest with me – and with the other ones – about what you are going to do. _Before_ you do it.”

Hal stares at him for a long, silent moment, an unreadable expression on his face, before a small, surprised smile lifts the very corners of his mouth. “So what you’re saying is, you’re happy for me to kill people, as long as I talk to you and the other one about it beforehand?”

“Within reason,” Dominic croaks, the tightness in his throat now so bad that he can barely breathe. 

Hal looks at him silently for another long moment, before he blinks hard, once, twice, and his eyes widen into an expression of utter astonishment.

“Are you out of your mind?” Hal asks, and Dominic gives him a pleading look.

“Hal, listen to me. He will never agree to any kind of cooperation if we don’t at least meet him halfway.”

Hal shakes his head vigorously. “But Dominic, have you not thought about what this might mean for you?” he asks. “What if he is out somewhere with you and he decides… to… I don’t even want to think about…”

“Don’t, then,” Dominic says emphatically, doing his best to ignore the sudden flame of hunger in his gut at the implications of Hal’s words. 

There is a beat of silence, before Hal lifts his eyebrows and says, “Well, that’s killed the mood.”

“I’ll think twice before calling you by that name again,” Dominic says with a small, sheepish smile, and Hal chuckles.

“Yeah. You’re slowly getting to know all my triggers.”

“As it should be,” Dominic says, catching Hal’s eyes across the table and giving him a deep, smouldering look, until, to his endless surprise, he sees the faintest change of colour in Hal’s pale cheeks. For some reason, the sight of Hal blushing does unspeakable things to his insides, and he feels a powerful surge of something that is half hunger and half arousal spread through his body, out from just behind his navel into the very tips of his fingers and toes. The next moment, Hal is standing in front of him, one hand stretched out towards him, and he looks at it gingerly for a moment before taking it. 

“I believe,” Hal says, as he pulls Dominic to his feet and leads him over towards the maroon three-seater, “that it is time for dessert.”

“We’ve already had dessert,” Dominic says with a look back to the dining table, even as his throat feels parched and his stomach somersaults, the feeling intensified tenfold when he hears Hal’s deep, breathy laugh.

“Well then, call it second dessert,” he purrs into Dominic’s ear, gently pulling him down to sit on the sofa next to him, so very, very close. Looking up at Hal, he can see every single one of the millions of specks of colour in Hal’s hazel eyes, a sight he knows he will never tire of for the rest of his life. His hands come up to his shirt collar as if on autopilot, starting to undo the top few buttons, when Hal’s hand on his own stops him in his tracks.

“I was more thinking about dessert for _you_ ,” he points out, giving Dominic a significant look, and he swallows down the quickly gathering saliva in his mouth as he allows his eyes to drop to Hal’s slender, pale throat. 

“I’ve already had some today,” he says so quietly it is almost a whisper, and Hal smiles and shrugs.

“Well, it’s just an offer. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

Dominic swallows again, unable to tear his eyes away from that spot right in the crook of Hal’s neck. “I…” he croaks, swallows again, finally lifts his eyes to meet Hal’s, and freezes when he sees them flash black for just a fraction of a second. Almost instantly, his own eyes switch as well, and the dimly lit living room explodes in bright colours. “I do want to,” he rasps around the newly descended fangs in his mouth. “I just…” He trails off, unsure of what exactly it is that makes him hesitate. “Are you sure Alex is not coming back tonight?” he asks eventually, and Hal gives him an exasperated look.

“No, Dominic, she isn’t. Relax.”

Dominic nods absentmindedly, eyes once again wandering to the crook of Hal’s neck, and now, with his new, enhanced vision, he can almost see the blood flow underneath his skin. Before he even fully realises what is happening, he feels himself drawn in as if by a magnet, and his lips make contact with Hal’s neck, placing a gentle kiss against his skin before, a moment later, he sinks his fangs into it.

The blood flooding into his mouth straight from Hal’s vein is pure bliss, so much better, so much more _powerful_ than the flask he had earlier today, and for the first time in his life he really and truly understands where the other Hal is coming from. There simply is no comparison. He swallows down large mouthfuls of the sweet red liquid, lips clamped tightly over Hal’s neck, one hand buried in his hair, pulling him closer, and he thinks he can hear Hal let out a deep, breathy moan as he lets his head fall back against the back rest of the sofa, giving him better access.

Eventually, one of Hal’s hands pushes against his chest, and Dominic reluctantly pulls away and opens his eyes – when did he even close them? – to find himself half sitting in Hal’s lap, with his knee resting in between Hal’s thighs. Hal’s eyes are black again, he notices, and the tips of his fangs are visible between his slightly parted lips.

“Was that good?” he asks, giving Dominic an intense look, and all he can do in reply is nod. Hal smiles. “Care to share?” he asks, one hand snaking in behind Dominic’s head, pulling him down towards him, and once again Dominic can only nod before he leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to Hal’s. 

Hal growls against his mouth when he gets the first taste of blood against his lips, and his tongue swipes out, licking more of the blood off Dominic’s lips. Dominic feels a shiver run down his spine, spreading into his stomach and down into his groin, and he lets out a small whimper, drawing Hal’s bottom lip into his mouth and biting down again. 

The sound and vibration of Hal’s quiet laughter against his mouth makes him pull back, and Hal’s eyes are dancing as he looks at him. “Still not got enough?” he asks, eyes flicking down to Dominic’s once more blood-smeared mouth, and he feels a new blush creep into his cheeks at the scrutiny. 

“I…”

“Don’t worry, it’s all right,” Hal says, with one more, almost chaste touch of lips against lips, before he gently manoeuvres Dominic off of his lap and gracefully slides down onto the floor in front of him. Sitting back on the balls of his feet, he looks up at Dominic with a questioning expression in his eyes and says, “May I?”

It takes Dominic’s blood-addled brain a good long moment to make sense of what is happening, but the moment he realises what Hal is up to, a wild surge of arousal courses through him, and he can feel his cock twitch helplessly in his trousers. 

“I suppose,” he gasps out, “you have earned yourself that much.” It is in that moment that he decides that the sound of Hal’s laughter is his favourite sound in the whole world.

Without saying another word, Hal lifts his hands to make quick work of his belt, button and zip, and a moment later his rock-hard length is encircled by Hal’s long, slender fingers. 

“Hal…” he breathes, eyes fixed on Hal’s as the other slowly moves in, and one of Dominic’s hands once more buries itself in Hal’s silky hair, guiding him forward. A loud moan escapes his mouth when Hal’s mouth closes around the the head of his cock, tongue swirling around the slit, before he moves down, down, taking him in. Dominic lets his head fall back against the back rest of the sofa, his hand never leaving the back of Hal’s head, gently carding through his hair as Hal settles into a rhythm around him. “Oh… oh God, Hal…” he chokes out, feeling himself drifting closer and closer to the edge until, with one more swirl of Hal’s tongue and one carefully judged scrape of teeth, he feels himself fall, feels the tension build inside of him moments before he shoots his release deep into Hal’s mouth.

Breathing deeply with his head flopped back against the sofa, the combined power of the blood rush and orgasm makes it near impossible for him to move for what seems like a small eternity. At some point, Hal pulls off of him, tucks him back into his underwear and trousers, and a moment later the sofa dips down next to him, and he can feelseesmell Hal settle down beside him, so close to him, and he lets his head fall to the side and opens his eyes to face him. Hal is so close that his eyes are not able to fully focus on him, and his eyes are still black, he thinks, but he isn’t sure, because he isn’t sure of anything right now. Anything except for the fact that he loves this man in front of him more than anything in the world.

“Love you,” he hears himself mumble, and there it is again, the sound of Hal’s laughter, and it puts a smile on his face.

“I love you too,” Hal says, placing a quick peck against his lips before he pulls back and once again holds a hand out for Dominic to take. 

Glancing up at Hal’s hand, Dominic feels a small frown settle on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” says Hal, as Dominic finally takes the offered hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it is customary, I believe, to escort one’s date back to their door.”

“But we’re already at home, Hal,” Dominic points out, the words slurring hopelessly in his mouth and the confused frown on his face deepening.

“I meant your bedroom door,” Hal clarifies, his free hand coming up to lightly brush down the front of Dominic’s chest, making him shiver. 

“You’re not sleeping in my bed again tonight,” Dominic mumbles, trying and failing to give Hal a stern look, and Hal chuckles again.

“Of course not. I wasn’t expecting to,” Hal says, and with a gentle pull on Dominic’s hand, sets the two of them in motion.

Carefully setting one foot in front of the other, he follows Hal down the hallway and up the stairs, then along another hallway and to the door of the guest room, where Hal stops and turns around to him. 

“There you go,” he says, his free hand reaching out to open the door, and Dominic reaches his own hand out to stop him, his forehead creasing as he looks back at Hal.

“It’s customary, I believe, to kiss your date goodbye before you leave.”

Hal lets out a quiet laugh. “Of course, where are my manners?” Hal says, smiling brightly at him before he leans in and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to Dominic’s lips. “There. Good night, beautiful.”

“See you in the morning, darling,” Dominic blurts out before he even knows what he is saying, and Hal is laughing again.

“Darling?” 

“No?” Dominic asks, the crease in his brow deepening.

“Maybe,” Hal says with a smile and a shrug. “You might want to revisit that when you’re sober.”

Then, with quick peck to Dominic’s cheek, he lets go of his hand and starts walking back towards his own room. Their room. With one hand on the door handle, he turns back around, lifts his eyebrows at Dominic and asks, “So, how was that for making it up to you?”

“It’s a start,” he says with a shrug, leaning back against the doorframe, trying to look nonchalant as possible even as the blood rush turns his knees to jelly. 

Hal huffs. “A start, huh? I can live with that.”

And before Dominic gets a chance to respond, he has already disappeared into the room, the door falling shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chess scene between Alex and Dominic was inspired by [this picture](https://secretdiaryofafanficwriter.tumblr.com/post/189896627124/being-human-behind-the-scenes-aka-rook-and-alex).
> 
> Now I'll be off to see in the new year, and I'll be back with more veeeery soon. Including a special surprise in Chapter 30...


	30. Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Here it is, the first chapter of the new year. And a very special chapter it is as well.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

The rest of the weekend goes by in a big, happy, blood-fueled blur for Dominic, and it is only now, sitting at his desk at the Archive on a cold, overcast Monday morning, that he fully realises what Hal has done. The way he drew him in with flattery and nostalgia and drunken make-out sessions on the sofa, the way he made him almost forget what he had done for a blissful day and a half, until he woke up to shaking limbs and gnawing hunger on Monday morning and his hand flew out blindly for the flask he left on his bedside table, gulping down the contents before he could even form a coherent thought.

He can still feel it thrumming through his body at this moment, as he works hard to make his eyes focus on the email open on the screen in front of him, and he groans when he reads the sender’s name.

_Dominic,_

_Thank you for sending me your reports regarding those two Type 2 killings. I have read them both thoroughly, and while I can’t call myself an expert in such matters, your conclusions based on the evidence you have gathered do indeed seem to suggest that #SJ031 was not involved in either of these cases._

_Be that as it may, I can’t shake the feeling that you are hiding something from me, Dominic. I have received reports of your increasingly erratic behaviour since your return, of continuous problems with your health and leaving work early without warning to see to some personal matters. I implore you, Dominic, to not allow any aspects of your relationship with this foul creature to have an impact on your work, or I will find myself forced to renegotiate the terms of your employment._

_Kind regards,_  
_Alistair_

Dominic’s nostrils flare, and he can feel the familiar itching in his gums that has become so intricately linked to any kind of strong emotion nowadays. And even as the emotion itself is a complex mix of fear and anger – at Alistair for threatening him, at Hal for putting him into this situation in the first place –, it is the hunger, that constant companion of his since he first woke up in that cellar more than a month ago, that threatens to take over, to overwhelm him. The whole, wide range of human emotions, all reduced to this yearning for blood, and he clenches his teeth tightly, balls his hands into fists, fights down the growing urge inside of him to rip the insufferable man’s throat out. Despite his best efforts, the scene plays out vividly in his mind’s eye, almost visceral, the way it would feel to sink his teeth into his flesh, a real, live human’s flesh, and he gasps as, with a monumental effort, he forces his eyes open, stares, unseeing, at the screen in front of him, gulps deep breaths into his lungs until he can finally feel the hunger ebb away. 

The door opening at the far end of the room makes him look up, and his breath sticks in his throat as his eyes fall on the last person he expected to see.

“Hal?” he whispers incredulously, brow creasing as he watches him walk along the aisle towards him. “What are you doing here?” he asks, as Hal comes to stand in front of his desk, giving him an amused look.

“Oh, you know. I was in the area and thought, why not drop by for a chat and a quick snack?” 

Dominic almost chokes on a bit of saliva in his mouth, and coughs loudly. “A… snack?” he asks, eyebrows flying almost into his hairline, and Hal gives him an intense look.

“Well, I didn’t mean that kind of snack, but if you’re offering…” He takes another step towards the desk, so close now that Dominic can smell him.

A nervous flutter runs through him, eyes darting around the large room, before he loudly clears his throat and, in his best calm and collected civil servant voice, says, “I'm sorry, Mr Yorke, but I'm afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Hal, however, is anything but deterred by his sudden change in tone, and if anything the intensity of his gaze grows even stronger as he slowly steps around the desk and comes to stand in front of Dominic’s office chair. He reaches out a hand to tilt his chin up before, in a deep, sensual voice that makes Dominic’s stomach somersault, he says, “Oh, I think you do, Mr Rook.” 

Then, before Dominic even has the chance to get his thoughts in order, Hal leans down to close the gap between them and captures his lips in a gentle kiss.

The feeling of Hal’s soft lips on his make it almost impossible for him not to respond, and he finds his own lips brushing against Hal’s for one blissful, too short moment, before he pulls away and gasps out, “Hal…” But Hal looks at him with fire in his eyes, and unable to stop himself, he places another small peck against Hal’s lips before continuing, “We really can’t do this…” another kiss “…in here…” another kiss and he nips Hal’s bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him gasp against his mouth. “Somebody might see,” he finishes, finally tearing his eyes away from Hal and letting them wander around the room, which, apart from the shelves almost buckling under the weight of hundreds of files and boxes, is thankfully completely empty.

“Mmh, we can’t have that,” Hal says quietly, and Dominic’s eyes flick back over to him, so very close, and before he can stop himself he has hooked his index fingers in the belt loops of Hal’s jeans and has started to pull him closer again, his eyes drawn to the other’s mouth and leaning forward and up to once more connect their lips together. Hal, obviously encouraged by the move, opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, hands buried in Dominic’s hair, and Dominic loses himself in the kiss for a long moment before his rational mind takes over, and he forces himself to pull back and give Hal another imploring look.

Hal sighs and takes a reluctant step back. “Fine. I guess you have a point,” he says and clears his throat.

Dominic nods. “So, why are you actually here?” he asks as he leans back in his chair, working hard to slow down his breathing and silence the newly awakened hunger in his gut. And not a moment too soon, as just in that moment, the door at the far end opens again, and Arthur comes striding into the room with a large grey file in his hands. 

Dominic watches in stunned silence as Arthur’s gaze wanders from him over to Hal standing next to his desk and back again, a knowing look in his eyes as he takes in Dominic’s tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, before he clears his throat loudly, polity inclines his head towards Hal and says, “Mr Yorke.” Following Arthur’s gaze towards Hal, he sees his eyes widen almost imperceptibly before he silently acknowledges the greeting. Then Arthur turns back towards Dominic, places the grey folder on the desk in front of him and, without any sign of there being anything amiss, says, “Here you go sir, the file you requested. #TY043.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Dominic replies, still slightly breathless, the words accompanied by a meaningful look that conveys his gratitude for more than just the file, and Arthur’s lips curl up in a tiny, if slightly exasperated smile.

“Of course, sir. Please let me know if there is anything else you need.” His eyes wander back towards Hal for a second, who seems to have lost his voice completely. 

Dominic nods and smiles. “I will do, Arthur. Thanks.”

And with another curt nod to both of them, Arthur turns his back and makes his way across the room to the door. Once the door has fallen shut behind him, Dominic lets out a deep, slightly shaky sigh and turns back to Hal, lifting his eyebrows at him.

“And _that_ is exactly why we can’t do that kind of thing here,” he points out. 

Hal barks out a sharp laugh, before a frown settles on his face, and he says, “He looked like he knows about us, Dominic. Does he… does he know?”

Dominic sighs and nods. “Yes, Hal, he does. I… he…” he drifts off, sighs again. “He was there for me when I found out about you and Jamie, and I… may have… told him about us.”

Hal gives him an incredulous look. “You _may have_?”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “I don’t actually remember what I said,” he admits, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks, and Hal huffs.

“That was the night you came home completely off your head, wasn’t it.” Dominic swallows and nods, and Hal continues with a sigh, “Does that mean he knows about… you… as well?”

“Yes, he does,” Dominic says, averting his eyes. 

“Dominic—”

“He’s trustworthy, Hal, don’t worry,” Dominic says, sending him a pleading look. “I’ve known him all my life. He won’t say anything.”

Hal looks back at him for the longest moment, a thoughtful expression in his eyes, before he finally gives a curt nod. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Dominic responds immediately, before he smiles at Hal and adds, “So, as I was asking before we were interrupted, what brings you here?”

Hal shrugs. “As I told you before, I came by for a chat and a sn—”

“Hal,” Dominic says exasperatedly, and Hal laughs.

“I’ve come by to pick up some more flasks, Dominic. I thought it would be in your interest to keep me well fed and safe.”

Dominic lifts his eyebrows at him. “You sound like him,” he points out, and Hal’s eyes narrow.

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?” he muses, then swallows and looks down. “Well I guess you are getting your wish. He’s been… a lot more present in my mind since our conversation. As you found out yourself the other day.” His face darkens when he adds, “I can’t believe you basically gave him carte blanche to kill people as he wishes, Dominic.”

“That isn’t what I did,” Dominic says quickly, giving Hal an imploring look. “I merely said I wanted him to talk to us before he did it, hoping that we would be able to dissuade him from doing it before it’s too late.”

Hal snorts. “You do realise that he most likely just heard you say that.”

“I expected him to be intelligent enough to have figured it out, anyway,” Dominic says with a shrug.

Hal looks at him in silence for a moment, before he shakes his head and asks, “What makes you think he’s going to listen to you? He’s never, in five hundred years, let anyone hold him back, Dominic, and I can’t imagine he’s going to start now.”

Dominic gives him a small smile. “Maybe not,” he says. “But he might listen to you and to… Henry.”

Hal’s eyes widen. “Why would he—”

“Because I think he cares more than you think,” Dominic says, giving Hal a significant look, before, with a grace he never used to possess when he was human, he lifts himself out of his chair and comes to stand in front of Hal, looking him straight in the eyes. “Now,” he says, brushing his fingers against the back of Hal’s hand for a moment before he leans in and presses a barely there kiss to Hal’s lips, “let me go and find someone to get you those flasks, and then I do need to get back to work, Hal. I have things to do, you know.”

“Clearly,” Hal says, eyes wandering back towards his desk, where the large grey file numbered #TY043 is sitting untouched. A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and he asks, “Who’s this then? Anyone I know?”

“Funny you should say that,” Dominic replies, and Hal’s head whips back around to him, a crease in his brow.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Dominic says, clearing his throat. “This is the case file for the murder of a certain Lady Mary Selby in 1762, committed by an unknown Type 2.”

Hal’s eyes widen, and Dominic can see his Adam’s apple rising and falling rapidly. “Why… the sudden interest in that case?” he asks, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“Just a possible lead I’m following,” Dominic says with a small shrug. Then he gives Hal a thoughtful look and adds, “You don’t happen to know where she might be, do you?”

Hal scoffs. “No. And after our last encounter, I’d be quite happy for it to stay that way, thank you very much.”

Dominic nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Looking back up into Hal’s eyes, he adds, “But I would still be grateful if perhaps you could keep your feelers out? Let me know if you hear anything?”

“Well,” Hal says with a sigh. “I guess I do still owe you a few favours.”

“Oh yes you do,” Dominic agrees, a smile playing on his lips. 

Hal smiles back at him, a glint in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ve still got a couple of surprises up my sleeve.”

“Do you indeed?” asks Dominic, as he walks past Hal towards the door, turning back to see him following along behind him.

“I do,” Hal says, his smile widening. “You’ll see.”

***

Surprise number one takes nearly a week to arrive in the post, and when it does, it is a very perplexed looking postman who delivers it to the door of Number 8, Coastview Road, finding the door opening on its own accord, and an invisible force pulling the parcel out of his outstretched hand.

“Alex?” Dominic calls, alarmed, when he comes down the stairs just after the door has fallen shut, running a towel through his dripping wet hair. “Who was that at the door?” 

Alex turns around to him, the parcel still tightly clutched in her hand, and gives him an innocent look and a shrug. “The postman?”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you get me?”

“Because you were in the shower, pumpkin, and I’m sure you’d appreciate if I didn’t just rent-a-ghost in there when you haven’t got any clothes on.”

Dominic swallows. “So you just open the door to the postman like it’s no big deal?”

“At least I’m not running the risk of tearing the poor, unsuspecting man’s throat out,” Alex counters, giving him a meaningful look, and Dominic huffs.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Says you,” Alex says. “But you’re a vampire, Blondie, and my experience says that vampires can’t be trusted.”

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dominic mutters.

“Also, Hal instructed me specifically not to let you get the post,” Alex continues, and Dominic frowns.

“He did?”

“Yep,” Alex confirms with a nod. “So if you don’t mind, I’ll hold onto this for the time being. Or, well, until Hal gets home from his night shift, at least.” Throwing a thoughtful look at the medium-sized cardboard box in her hand, she quietly adds, “I wonder what he got you.”

“Got me?” Dominic asks, his own eyes darting down to the envelope. “That’s for me?”

Alex shrugs. “Why else would he not want you to open it?”

Dominic opens his mouth to reply, but in that moment, the door opens again, and Hal steps through, tired eyes darting back and forth between them before landing on the parcel, and a slow smile spreads on his face. “Why indeed?” he says, taking another few steps towards Dominic and tilting his chin up for a quick good morning kiss. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself,” Dominic replies as he pulls away, a quizzical look on his face. “So you got me a present?”

“I did,” Hal says, nodding and holding out a hand to Alex, who promptly hands the parcel over to him. 

“Uh, I’ll… be upstairs,” Alex says quickly, giving them both a meaningful look before she quickly rent-a-ghosts away. Hal laughs quietly.

“Yeah. So, um, perhaps we should go inside so you can open it?” He gestures to the living room, and Dominic steps through, closely followed by Hal. 

Once inside, he turns around and gives Hal another quizzical look. “So?”

“So, yes, I… well I know how much you like me telling you about old vampire history, so I thought you might enjoy this.” He holds the parcel out to Dominic, who puts it down on the table, retrieves the letter opener from the reception desk and carefully cuts through the packing tape to open it. Folding back the flaps, his eyes widen when they fall on an ancient looking, light brown, leather-bound book, and he gingerly lifts it up, only to find a second, almost identical volume underneath.

Staring, open-mouthed, at the book in his his hand, he breathes, “Is this…?”

“ _Traité sur les apparitions des esprits et sur les vampires ou les revenans de Hongrie, de Moravie, &c.,_” Hal says, nodding. “It translates to _Tr_ —”

“ _Treatise on the Apparitions of Spirits and on Vampires or Revenants of Hungary, Moravia, et al._ ,” Dominic whispers, running one reverent finger across the old leather cover. “I know. I’ve always wanted… is this…?”

“First edition, published in Paris in 1751,” Hal confirms, and Dominic looks up at him with huge eyes.

“Hal, this must have cost you a fortune.”

Hal shrugs. “I’ve got contacts.”

“In France?” Dominic asks faintly, and Hal nods.

“Yes, Dominic, in France. I still know one or two vampires out there who boast quite extensive libraries. The most difficult part was to get to know their whereabouts, but our friend Regus proved very helpful in that respect.” 

Dominic glances back at the book in his hand, then at the second one still nestled securely between the copious packing paper in the box, before slowly opening the first one and allowing himself to leaf through the first few pages. Then he looks back up at Hal with a crease in his brow. “But Hal, it’s… it’s in French.”

Hal lets out a small, breathy laugh. “Of course it is.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” Hal says, a smile on his face. “I’ll translate it for you. If you keep me around, that is,” he adds, a glint in his eyes, and Dominic’s eyes narrow.

“So that was your ploy all along, was it?” 

“To be fair, no it wasn’t,” Hal says, giving him an innocent look. “I honestly thought that you knew French.”

“Well, I apologise for being so uneducated,” Dominic says, and Hal’s smile widens, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of Dominic’s face. 

“You’re not,” he says, before he leans in and lands a gentle, slow kiss on his lips that leaves Dominic yearning for more. “You’re perfect.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Dominic mutters, even as he is already leaning in again for another kiss, the book pressed tightly against his chest and a big smile on his face. “But thank you for the present, darling.”

Hal chuckles silently as he pulls him closer. “You’re welcome,” he mumbles, more vibration against his lips than actual sound. “And you are. You’re perfect.” 

Dominic rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get to respond as Hal captures his lips in another kiss, and then he forgets what he was going to say anyway.

***

“A tradesman of St Honoré’s Street in Paris had promised his daughter to one of his friends, a tradesman in the same street. Soon after, a receiver of the revenue made his addresses to the girl, and being preferred to the tradesman, her old sweetheart, they were married,” reads Hal, one hand carding absentmindedly through Dominic’s hair as he lays with his head nestled comfortably in Hal’s lap, the other hand holding the book he is reading from. 

Dominic smiles. “What is this, a love story? I thought it’s supposed to be an account of a vampire sighting?”

“I’m just reading what’s there,” Hal says, chuckling quietly. “And anyway, the way I see it, there is no reason it can’t be both.”

Dominic raises his eyes to look at him, a difficult feat from the position he is finding himself in, and finds Hal giving him a significant look. Rolling his eyes with a small sigh, he says, “I suppose it can be both.”

“Exactly,” says Hal, before he clears his throat and continues reading, “The young woman, before long, fell ill and, being supposed to be dead, was buried. Her first lover, having some notion of its being only a lethargy, or fainting fit, took her out of the grave by night and recovered her. They were soon after married, and went into England, where they lived happily together for several years.”

By this point, Dominic’s smile is so wide it almost makes his face split in two. “Why can’t I shake the feeling that that tradesman was someone I know?” he asks, once again meeting Hal’s eyes upside down, and Hal huffs.

“I was never a _tradesman_ ,” he says in an indignant tone that has Dominic laugh loudly. 

“Wow, aren’t you ever a snob,” he says, shaking his head. “And anyway, tell me I’m wrong.”

Hal gives a dramatic sigh, but Dominic sees a small smile play at the corners of his lips. “It wasn’t me, Dominic. But I _may_ have known a vampire who posed as a tradesman in Paris at some point in the mid 1700s,” he admits, and Dominic gives him a curious look.

“You actually knew them?”

Hal nods. “I did. The vampire’s name was Jacques, the woman was called Marie. She was very unhappy in her marriage, and he was in love with her, so he recruited her, and they faked her death to get her out of her first marriage.” 

“Clever,” Dominic says, chuckling quietly. “I hope they got their happily ever after.”

“They were vampires, Dominic. For them, happily ever after probably meant killing the population of a small town between them.”

Dominic looks up at him with a crease in his forehead. “So did they?”

Hal snorts. “I think they did, for a good long while, at least. I lost contact with Jacques after he left Paris, but I certainly heard of them many years later. Don’t know if they’re still around or not,” he finishes, shrugging.

Silence falls for a moment as they settle down again, Dominic snuggling further into Hal’s lap with his nose all but brushing against his stomach, feeling Hal’s quiet chuckle against his face before he clears his throat and continues reading.

***

Surprise number two arrives in the post as well, albeit in a small, white envelope, which Hal drops in front of him as he sits alone at the breakfast table another few days later. 

“What’s this?” Dominic asks, eyes flicking back and forth between the envelope and Hal’s expectant and slightly anxious face.

“Well, you see,” Hal says, sounding almost as nervous as he looks, “today is the one year anniversary of when we met, and I thought… well…” he drifts off.

“When you say ‘when we met’, do you mean…?”

“At the hotel,” Hal clarifies. “When you first approached me. I know that wasn’t exactly a romantic encounter, but—”

“Speak for yourself,” Dominic blurts out before he can stop himself, earning a stunned expression from Hal.

“What?” Hal asks, never taking his eyes off him as he sits down at the table next to him.

“Well,” Dominic says, looking down at the bright white envelope in front of him, absentmindedly tracing the edge of it with his index finger. “I… clearly remember the first time I saw you,” he continues, swallowing thickly as in his mind’s eye, he sees those beautiful hazel eyes looking at him for the first time, feels the small flutter in his stomach that he felt even then, even when he didn’t have a clue what to make of it. Then, realising he hasn’t said anything for a while, he blinks away the image and lifts his eyes back to Hal again with a small soft smile. “I didn’t realise it then, but there was definitely… something… there, even then.” He swallows thickly, shakes his head. “But never mind that now. You were saying?”

Hal clears his throat. “Yes, I… thought you might like… this…” He pushes the envelope closer towards Dominic with the tips of his outstretched fingers.

Dominic takes it, opens it, and his eyes grow big as saucers as they fall on the two shiny pieces of paper in his hands. “Hal, these are…”

“Football tickets, yes,” Hal says quickly. “Cardiff City against Norwich City, this Saturday. I thought you might want to go.”

Dominic gives him a disbelieving look. “Hal, I haven’t been to a football match since I was eleven years old.”

Hal swallows thickly. “You… don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’m sure I can give them back if—”

“No, you idiot,” Dominic cuts in, leaning across the table to press a soft, lingering kiss to Hal’s lips. “Thank you. I’d love to go.”

“Yes?” Hal asks, an uncertain smile spreading on his lips, and Dominic nods emphatically. 

“Yes,” he says, returning Hal’s smile for moment, before a crease appears in his brow, and he asks, “Are you even interested in football?”

“Well…” Hal says, averting his eyes, and Dominic huffs out a laugh.

“You never even played when you were a boy?” he asks, earning himself a snort from Hal.

“I… kind of predate football, Dominic,” he points out, and Dominic feels a faint blush rising into his cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” 

Hal shakes his head. “Don’t be. I doubt the other kids would’ve let me join in either way. I wasn’t exactly... popular.”

Dominic feels a lump rising into his throat. “Hal, I’m… sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, Dominic,” Hal says, smiling. “It’s fine, honestly. So I didn’t play football as a boy, and I’m, well, not exactly an expert in the game. I hope you don’t mind? I mean, I would completely understand it if—”

“Hal,” Dominic cuts in, to no avail.

“—you’d rather go with someone else, who actually understands what’s going on. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind—”

“Hal,” Dominic says again, louder, and this time it seems to get through to Hal, whose eyes flick up to meet his own, full of doubt and uncertainty. Dominic gives him a soft smile and reaches out a hand to cover Hal’s own on the kitchen table. “I don’t want to go with anyone else.”

“You don’t?” Hal asks, still sounding unsure, and Dominic holds his gaze and slowly shakes his head.

“Of course I don’t,” he says, before giving Hal a thoughtful look and adding. “Just don’t expect me to explain the offside rule to you.”

“What’s the offside rule?” Hal asks with a creased brow, and Dominic can’t help the laughter that bursts out of his chest.

“Exactly,” he says, shaking his head.

***

Taking his seat in the tightly packed football stadium, Dominic takes a moment to seriously doubt his sanity, as the roaring sound of twenty five thousands heartbeats echoes in his head like a strangely discordant symphony, and the white hot flames in his gut lap at his insides with alarmingly growing intensity. 

A firm hand on his shoulder makes him look up, and he swallows hard as he meets Hal’s knowing gaze. 

“We can leave anytime you want,” Hal says quietly, giving him a meaningful look, and Dominic swallows down the rapidly accumulating saliva in his mouth and quickly shakes his head.

“No, I want to stay,” he says, expending as little air as possible as he lets his gaze wander around the stadium, and down towards the pitch. It is exhilarating being back in this place he last visited more than twenty years ago, accompanied by his father back then, but that is not what he tries to focus on. Looking back towards Hal, he gives him a small, strained smile and says, “Really, Hal. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

Hal sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t really think this through, did I?”

Dominic huffs out a quiet, breathless laugh. “No. No, you didn’t. But I appreciate the gesture anyway.” 

The game kicks off down on the pitch then, and the crowd around them starts into a deafening roar, almost loud enough to drown out the sound of their heartbeats. Dominic forces his eyes to follow the players as they make their way across the pitch, groaning as, five minutes in, Norwich City manage to score the first goal, leaving Cardiff trailing behind. 

“I take it that was a bad thing,” Hal asks, giving him a quizzical look, and Dominic snorts. 

“The opponent just scored, Hal. I would’ve thought that you knew at least that much.”

“I do,” Hal says sheepishly. “I just wasn’t sure which team was which.”

Letting out a disbelieving laugh and shaking his head, Dominic turns back to the pitch, where the game has started up again. “Blue, Hal,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “Our team play in blue.”

The rest of the first half goes by without much more excitement, and some of the home fans around them slowly grow restless, muttering and shouting at the players to do better, and amongst their growing discontent, Dominic feels the tension in his body building up again, feels his nostrils flare, taking in the enticing smell of fresh human blood all around him. 

Hal, it seems, picks up on the change in him straight away, as immediately, the hand on his shoulder is back, and Dominic looks up to see him looking at him with a small frown on his face.

“Really, Dominic if you want to leave—”

“No,” he says, swiftly shaking his head, even as he feels his gums and his eyes starting to itch, and he stares straight ahead to the pitch again, his vision blurring in an effort not to blink. 

“All right then,” Hal says next to him, and the next moment there is a quiet rustle of clothes, and a hand snaking around the back of his head, pulling him sideways. 

Dominic’s eyes dart up to Hal, and widen as they take in his exposed neck, and the steely, determined expression on Hal’s face.

“Hal, what…?”

“You need to feed,” Hal mutters under his breath, giving him an urgent look. “If you don’t, you’re going to lose control, and we can’t have that in the middle of a fucking football stadium.”

Dominic frowns, shaking his head in disbelief. “You want me to… feed from you… here?” he whispers, letting his eyes wander around the stadium. None of the other fans around them are paying them the slightest bit of attention, as everyone’s eyes are glued to the pitch below.

“I don’t think we’ve got much of a choice, Dominic,” Hal says, lifting his eyebrows at him, the hand at the back of his neck still slightly pulling him towards him. He is close enough now to smell the blood emanating from Hal, and he takes a deep breath, lets the scent fill his lungs, before he leans in the rest of the way, buries his head in the crook of Hal’s neck and sinks his teeth into his skin. 

The act of drinking Hal’s blood in clear view of twenty five thousand people sends a thrill through his body the like of which he has never felt before, and he has to work hard not to let the feeling overwhelm him, not to let himself get carried away, to make sure he doesn’t spill any of the precious blood his is sucking from Hal’s vein. All too soon he pulls away, licks his lips, looks up at Hal with big eyes full of gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Hal says, a soft smile on his lips, and Dominic feels a laugh bubble up in his chest. 

“I… can’t believe I did that,” he mutters, eyes darting back down to the football pitch, where the players are once again running towards the Cardiff City goal. 

“To be honest, I can’t believe you did that either,” Hal mutters next to him, and he turns around to see him looking at him with a small, teasing smile on his face. “Good thing you took me and not Tom.”

Dominic huffs, watching as one of the Norwich City shoots at the goal and hits the cross bar. “I think that statement is true in many respects.”

Hal lets out a quiet chuckle next to him, and they settle back down to watch the rest of the match.

The second half, it turns out, is a lot more successful for Cardiff City, who end up winning the game two goals to one, and by the end, almost the entire stadium is on its feet, cheering and jumping and hugging each other, and Dominic throws his arms around Hal, buries his head in the crook of his neck once more, not to bite, just to feel the closeness between them, and in that moment, he feels like he never wants to let him go again. 

“Thank you,” he mutters, and “I love you,” over and over and over again, until Hal, with a laugh and a shake of his head, pushes him away from him, and with a gentle hand at the small of his back, coaxes him towards the exit.

That night, tired and blood-drunk and happy, Dominic falls into their bed next to Hal, for the first time in almost three weeks. Only to sleep. But neither of them complains about it that night, or any of the ones following after, and somehow, unbeknownst to any of them, normality sets in. And normality now means sleeping together in the same bed, going to work day after day without any major breakthroughs, cuddling on the sofa in the evenings, visiting Tom and Natasha and the baby at his – no, _their_ – Cardiff flat, and watching Alex go off more and more frequently to spend time with ‘a friend’. A friend that, for reasons only known to her and Dominic, she won’t divulge the name of. But that, too, is just one of those things that slowly becomes normality.

***

A week goes by, and then another, before one rainy Friday morning, Dominic is woken up by a soft, cool kiss against the back of his left shoulder.

“Mmmh, I could get used to this,” he breathes, a sleepy smile settling on his face. 

“That’s good to know,” Hal says behind him, one arm sneaking around his waist to pull him closer, before he lands another soft kiss to his shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Dominic’s eyes fly open in an instant, big and mortified. “I… oh Hal, I haven’t… I… I haven’t even…”

Hal chuckles quietly and tightens his arm around him. “I believe the correct thing to say would have been, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ back, but perhaps things have changed in recent years,” he quips, and Dominic can feel him lift a shoulder in a small shrug.

He swallows thickly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Hal,” he says. “What I meant to say was, I haven’t got anything. For you. For Valentine’s Day. It’s… not really something that’s ever been on my radar.”

Hal’s lips are back at his shoulder then, kissing a featherlight trail along towards his neck, where he pauses and places a soft, slow kiss against the two small, shiny scars in his skin. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” Hal whispers against his skin, making a pleasant tingle run through his entire body. “Except perhaps a few hours of your time,” he continues. “It would be good if you could leave work a bit early tonight.”

“Oh yes?” Dominic asks, a smile spreading back on his lips. “Whatever for?”

“I want to take you out for dinner,” Hal says, his breath still tickling that spot on his neck, and Dominic lets out a soft, shaky sigh. “You see,” Hal adds, “the chef at the Park Hotel has a Michelin star—”

“Isn’t that where you were going to take Alex?” Dominic throws in, unable to stop himself. Almost at once, Hal’s head lifts away from his neck, and Dominic turns around to see him looking at him with a deep frown on his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure we can find another—”

Dominic lifts one finger to Hal’s lips to effectively shut him up, and with a smile and a glint in his eye says, “I was just teasing you, Hal.”

Hal’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve clearly been spending too much time around Alex.”

Dominic gives him a wide-eyed look, even as he isn’t fully able to suppress the smile on his lips. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mmmh, of course not,” says Hal, before leaning down and capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. “So, do you want me to look for an alternative? Because there isn’t very much in Barry in terms of fine dining, but I’m sure we could—”

“It’s fine, Hal,” Dominic says, the smile on his lips widening. “I’m more than happy to go to the Park Hotel.”

Hal gives him a long, scrutinising look, before finally, with a nod and a smile, he says, “Park Hotel it is. The table is booked for seven. Make sure you give yourself plenty of time to make yourself look pretty.”

Dominic raises his eyebrows. “Pretty?”

“Mmmh,” Hal hums, before leaning in for another kiss. “The other one’s words, not mine.”

“I see,” Dominic says with a smile. “Well in that case, I’ll do my very best to make myself look pretty.”

***

With seven o’clock fast approaching, Dominic stands in front of the wardrobe with a deep frown line between his brows, and for one short moment, he seriously considers calling Natasha for advice, when out of the blue, Alex materialises behind him, her see-through reflection visible in the wardrobe door mirror. 

“Hey, Blondie, how’s it going?” she asks, and he sighs deeply.

“I’m no good at this,” he admits, holding up the two outfits he has narrowed his selection down to, and her eyes narrow in thought as they take in each of them in turn.

“I think you’d look smashing in either of those,” she says after a moment, “but I’d probably go for that one. Open collar of course. You want to show off what you’ve got.”

It takes a moment for her words to fully sink in, and when they do, Dominic feels a violent blush rising into his cheeks.

“You think?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her, and she nods. 

“Of course. It’s Valentine’s Day. You want him to think you’re a snack. Quite literally, actually, in your case,” she adds with a thoughtful expression that quickly descends into a grimace. “Actually, I really don’t want to think about that too much.”

“You brought it up,” he points out, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“That may be so, but I changed my mind. Anyway, I’d say go for that one,” she says again, pointing to the white shirt, charcoal grey suit combo in his right hand. “It’s a classic. He’ll love it.”

Dominic nods and smiles at her. “All right. Thank you, Alex.”

“Welcome, Blondie,” Alex says. “Have fun.”

And with that, she is gone, and Dominic sighs as he quickly shrugs himself out of his grey work suit, carefully putting on the outfit Alex chose for him.

Less than ten minutes later, he makes his way downstairs and into the living room, and his breath catches in his throat when he lays his eye on Hal. He is standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a deep black suit over a dark purple shirt, open collar as well, Dominic notices with a smile. His hazel eyes are big and bright as they look back at him, widening slightly as he fully takes him in, and Dominic is sure that his own are doing the same, because Hal looks breathtakingly beautiful. 

Neither of them speaks for a long moment, until the silence is broken by the front door opening behind them, and both of them turn around to see Tom standing in the doorway, a wide-eyed, slightly frantic expression on his face.

“Hal, mate, I gotta talk to ya,” he says. 

“Er, Tom, it’s perhaps quite the right time—”

“Bu’ it’s Valentine’s Day,” Tom continues, looking more and more desperate, and Hal lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“Yes, Tom, it is, and we’re going to be late for dinner, so if you’ll excuse us…” With a meaningful look at Tom, he takes hold of Dominic’s hand and pulls him over towards the door.

Dominic frowns. “Shouldn’t you be with Tasha?” he asks, and Tom scowls. 

“Yeah, I’d love to be, that’s wha’ I was gonna talk to Hal abou’, well, sort of, bu’ it’s a full moon tonigh’ an’ I only jus’ made it ‘ere,” he says, frantic eyes darting back and forth between him and Hal. “D’ya mind if I use yer cellar?”

“Of course not,” Hal says, a small smile flitting across his lips. “It’s still your cellar, as well, Tom. That’s not just going to change.”

Tom lets out a deep, relieved breath. “Thanks, mate,” he says, and then, with another, closer look at them, “Where ya goin’?”

“Dinner,” Hal says, lifting his eyebrows at Tom. “And we really are going to be late, so if you don’t mind…”

“Yeah, sure,” Tom says, and with another quick nod to his friend, Hal pulls him through the door and out into the cool evening air. 

They make it to the restaurant just on time, and Dominic lets his eyes wander around the elegant room, decorated, he would guess, especially for Valentine’s Day, if the amount of red and pink roses is any indication. 

“You like it?” Hal breathes in his ear, one hand lying lightly against the small of his back as they follow the waiter to their table. 

“Yes, it’s… nice,” Dominic says, even as his eyes now fixate on the dozens of people sitting at tables all around them, their smell a sweet, but heavy bouquet in the enclosed space, and the sound of their heartbeats drowning out the soft classical music playing in the background. 

He takes a step forward and sits down in the chair the waiter pulled out for him, and his eyes follow Hal around the table, finally coming to rest on him as he takes the seat across from him. Hal’s expression is thoughtful as he looks at him.

“I made another mistake, didn’t I?” he says, letting his gaze wander around them before meeting Dominic’s again.

Dominic smiles. “No, Hal. Not a mistake. It’s Valentine’s Day, and we’re going to have a lovely meal.”

“But you—”

“I’m fine,” he says emphatically. Then he leans in, takes a quick look left and right before he looks deep into Hal’s eyes and, in a conspiratorial voice, adds, “If anything, I’ll consider this an aperitif.”

Hal’s eyes widen, and he barks out a surprised laugh. “That’s… not something I ever expected you to say,” he admits, and Dominic smiles. 

“I’m just glad that after one year I can still surprise you.”

“Are… you gentlemen ready to order?” the waiter asks hesitantly, and Dominic’s head whips around to the young man, who is eyeing the two of them expectantly.

Hal clears his throat. “Can we have a bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon, please, to start,” he says with a smile to the waiter, who gives him a quick nod.

“Of course, sir,” he says, and walks off to retrieve the wine, while both Hal’s and Dominic’s eyes fall down on the menus in front of them. 

“Any idea what you’re going to have?” Hal asks, and Dominic looks up at him with a spark in his eyes and a smile. 

“I don’t speak French,” he says, deadpan, his smile growing as he sees Hal’s eyes widening. “In fact,” Dominic continues, “why don’t you order something for me? I trust your judgement.”

The waiter returns with their wine, pouring them each a generous glass before leaving the bottle on the table between them, and Dominic feels a pleasant shiver run down his spine as he listens to Hal placing their order in perfect, fluent French that has even the waiter give him an impressed smile. 

“What did you order?” Dominic asks once the waiter has walked off again, and Hal gives him a mysterious smile.

“Wait and see,” he says.

Dominic laughs. “What have I got myself into?”

“Nothing bad, I promise you,” Hal says, the smile on his face softening, and Dominic finds himself caught in that smile for a long moment, unable to look away, unable to talk or even to breathe. 

“I love you,” he chokes out eventually. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you too, beautiful,” Hal intense eyes piercing into him. “I really do. I…” he breaks off, suddenly looking uncomfortable, and deep in thought. Then he quickly shakes his head, smiles at Dominic again, and says, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

A short while later, their food arrives, and Dominic is relieved to see that Hal ordered him what looks like a medium-well steak with a side of seasonal vegetables and rosemary potatoes. Cutting into the superbly tender steak, he takes a small, experimental bite, savours the flavour as much as he still can, as muted as it may be compared to what it used to be. 

“It’s very good,” he says, eyes darting up to Hal, who, he notices has been watching him without so much as touching his own food.

“Mmh, looks delicious,” Hal says, and Dominic nods. 

“It is,” he agrees, only for Hal to give him a small, crooked smile. 

“I wasn’t talking about the food.”

Dominic feels himself blushing a deep crimson, and he swallows thickly and blinks frantically to rid himself of the sudden curtain of red that has descended over his vision. 

“Don’t say things like that if you want me to actually make it through this meal,” he says with a meaningful look towards Hal, who nods, even as that same smile still plays at the corners of his mouth.

“I apologise,” he says. “I will keep such observations to myself in the future.”

Dominic turns back to his food then, taking another bite of his steak, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hal doing the same. Silence falls over the table as they eat, until it is finally broken by Hal asking, “So, how is the hunt for Mary going? Any leads?”

Dominic raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m not _hunting_ her, Hal. I’d merely like to talk to her. And it’s not going very well, since I can’t actually openly admit to anyone that that is what I am doing. Since, you know, I shouldn’t actually be able to talk to ghosts.”

“You could admit to them that you are a psychic,” Hal says with a shrug. “Which you were, truthfully, before your death, so you wouldn’t be lying.”

“Yeah, say that any louder,” Dominic says, eyes darting around them, and Hal laughs.

“You need to stop being so paranoid, Dominic. If there is one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that people only see and hear what they expect, what they want to see and hear. If there is anything out of the ordinary, such as someone at the next table speaking about their companion as if they have already died—”

“Hal!” Dominic bites out, and Hal raises his eyebrows at him.

“—then their brains will simple choose to ignore it, to throw that snippet of conversation overboard as incongruent with their world view. How else do you think we would’ve been able to remain a secret for so many hundreds of years?”

“Because of us,” Dominic replies, giving Hal a wide-eyed look, and Hal huffs out a laugh.

“No,” he replies. “If you really believe that, you’re more deluded than I thought.”

Dominic frowns. “Are you trying to tell me that my work, and my father’s and grandfather’s work before me, has been meaningless?” he asks incredulously. 

Hal sighs. “No, Dominic, that’s not what I’m saying. I think that what you do is very important. But I still believe that people really only believe what they want to believe. The thing is that nowadays, a lot of people would want to believe in vampires.”

“I guess you have a point,” Dominic admits, then narrows his eyes at Hal. “Which, by the way, was not what first attracted me to you.”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Hal asks innocently, and Dominic’s frown deepens.

“No.”

“So you weren’t drawn to me the very first time you met me because I was a vampire?” he continues. “So you didn’t _offer your blood_ to me because you were attracted to me because I was a vampire?”

“No,” Dominic repeats, giving Hal a steely look, and Hal huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“I will,” Dominic says with an emphatic nod, and Hal just smiles and laughs again. Silence falls once more as they both return to their food, and before long, they have both cleared their plates, and looking up at Hal, Dominic sees him giving him that uncertain, thoughtful expression again. “Everything all right?” he asks, and Hal nods jerkily.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he says, looking down for a split-second before meeting Dominic’s eyes again. “I just… I… I was going to say…” he drifts off, swallows repeatedly, lets his eyes drift down to the empty plate in front of him.

“Yes?” Dominic asks, and Hal’s eyes dart up to him, an almost alarmed expression in them, before he visibly relaxes a moment later and lets out a deep breath.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, smiling thinly at him. “I think we should probably get out of here, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Dominic says with a shrug. “I certainly couldn’t eat any more… food,” he adds at the last moment, enjoying the way Hal’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly again.

“Right,” Hal says, clearing his throat. “Let’s get the bill and… get out of here.”

Another five minutes later, they step through the doors of the hotel out into the cool February night. The rain from earlier has made way for a clear, starry night, and there is only the slightest breeze blowing in from the coast. Dominic lets his eyes fall closed as he takes in a deep gulp of the clean sea air, startled as he feels Hal’s hand enclosing his own. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Hal says, gently pulling on his hand, and Dominic opens his eyes and follows behind Hal as he leads him along the promenade, and down the narrow path towards the beach. The moon stands round and bright in the sky, and Dominic spares one moment for Tom, locked into the cellar at Honolulu Heights, before his eyes widen and he whirls around to Hal when another thought infiltrates his mind.

“Adie,” he breathes. “It’s… a full moon… and I haven’t even… I haven’t even asked…”

“I’m sure they’ve taken precautions,” Hal assures him with a smile. “Tom would not just leave Natasha to deal with him if he thought there was any chance he could hurt her.”

Dominic looks at him for a long moment, before eventually, he nods and says, “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Hal says with an eyebrow wiggle and a smile, and Dominic can’t help but laugh, even as he rolls his eyes at him.

“Why do I put up with you?” he asks as Hal pulls him along further, almost to the edge of the water.

“Because you love me,” Hal says, stopping by the water’s edge, turning around and pulling him towards him, and suddenly they are so close, so very close, and he stands and he waits for Hal to kiss him, but the kiss never comes. Instead, he looks up into Hal’s eyes, sparkling in the bright light of the moon. There is a small crease between Hal’s brows as he regards him, carefully, almost reverently, and he says, “Dominic.”

“Yes, Hal?” he asks, unable to tear his eyes away from him.

“There is…” Hal pauses, looks down, takes a deep breath. Then his eyes come back up to his again, if anything even brighter than before. “There is something I wanted to say to you,” he says, and Dominic isn’t sure what it is about what he said, or maybe the way he said it, but he feels a sudden lump rising into his throat, and he swallows thickly.

“Okay,” he chokes out, his right hand still enclosed by Hal’s, his eyes still mesmerised by the reflection of the moonlight in the hazel ones before him.

“You see,” Hal starts, “I’ve been thinking a lot recently about when Alex and Tom and I were standing in that road with Hatch, and we all knew that what we were doing was going to be the death of us, but we were going to save humanity, so we were willing to do it anyway.”

“Hal,” Dominic says, a frown settling on his face. “What brought this on?”

Hal takes a deep breath. “You see, the thing is, for me, I knew that I had already been given what to most people would be a small eternity. So much more than I was due, so much more than even most vampires would ever get to see. So, when it came down to it, I was ready to let it go. I was ready, Dominic, I had made my peace.”

“Hal,” he says again, his hand tightening around Hal’s, and Hal’s eyes drift down to their joint hands for a split-second, before he looks back up and gives him a small smile.

“But then you came along with the stupidest fucking idea known to man,” he continues, letting out a breathless chuckle, “and lo and behold, I was given yet another shot at life. Five hundred and twenty-four years I will have been on this Earth this year, Dominic… according to your records, at least.” He lets out another quiet laugh, before he looks deep into Dominic’s eyes and continues, “Only one of those years I have spent with you. But if there is one thing this last year has made me realise, it's that I want to share the rest of my eternity with you.”

“Hal,” Dominic breathes, his voice almost not obeying him as his throat closes up and his eyes sting with unshed tears.

Hal smiles at him, the most beautiful smile he has ever seen on his face, takes a deep breath and reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulling out a small, burgundy velvet box. There is a beat of perfect silence, the only sound coming from he gentle, rhythmic undulation of the waves beside them, before he opens the box, holds it out towards Dominic and says, “Dominic Rook, will you marry me?”

Dominic stares at him, stares at the box, unable to say anything or do anything, unable to process anything, trying to make sense of the words he has just heard, but try as he might, his brain doesn’t compute the full meaning of what has been said.

“Dominic?” Hal asks, an edge of nervousness and uncertainty creeping into his voice, and Dominic gasps in a hasty breath, realising he hasn’t even been breathing for the last few minutes. 

“No,” he says eventually, forehead creasing as he looks down at the open box. Inside, there is a band of plain white gold, half polished and half matte, with three small bright white diamonds set inside. Lifting his eyes back to Hal’s face, he watches as if in slow motion as Hal’s hopeful expression crumbles into dust in front of him, to be replaced by one of utter devastation.

“No?” Hal croaks, his hand loosening its hold of Dominic’s, and he quickly tightens his own hold again, swallows, smiles up at Hal.

“No, Hal,” he says. “I’m not going to marry you. I’m…” he looks back down at the ring, at the three white diamonds sparkling in the moonlight. “I’m going to marry _all_ of you.”

It takes Hal a long moment, it seems, to comprehend what he has said, but when he does, a bright, beautiful smile spreads on his lips.

“You are?” he asks, and Dominic, no longer able to keep the smile off his own face, nods emphatically.

“Yes, Hal. Yes, I am,” he says, and then he can’t say anymore as Hal leans in and captures his lips in a bruising kiss. He kisses him back, free hand snaking behind his neck to pull his head down further towards him, lips brushing against lips as the waves start lapping at their feet, and he smiles and pulls away, pulls at Hal’s hand to guide him further inland.

“Here,” Hal says, lifting the ring out of the box and giving him a significant look, and Dominic holds out his hand and allows him to place it on his finger. A powerful shiver runs through down his spine as he feels the weight of the gold settle around his finger, and his eyes dart down in wonder to look at his hand.

Then he looks back up at Hal with a small frown, and he asks, “What about you?”

Hal lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I’ve thought of that,” he says, and pulls another, identical ring out of his pocket and holds it out to Dominic, who takes it with shaking fingers and places it on Hal’s own hand. 

“Wow,” he breathes, eyes wandering back and forth between their hands, and then back up to Hal’s face. “Wow.”

“Indeed,” Hal says, lifting a hand to cup his face. “I love you,” he says, before leaning in for another long, tender kiss.

Then he pulls back, holds one hand out to Dominic, and he takes it and allows him to pull him further along the beach. 

“Let’s go home,” Hal says, turning around to him, hazel eyes dancing in the moonlight, and Dominic could never have agreed with any statement more.

***

It's the way you say yes when I ask you to marry me  
You don't know what you are doing  
Do you think you can carry me  
Over the threshold  
Over and over again until oblivion?  
It's the way that you're gonna stop needing to tell me  
You want me as much as I want you to tell me  
I'm over the threshold  
Everything is gonna be totally okay until oblivion

\- The National, “Oblivions”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains an excerpt from _Treatise on the Apparitions of Spirits and on Vampires or Revenants of Hungary, Moravia, et al._ by Antoine Augustine Calmet, which, yes, is a real book, or rather, two books, originally published in Paris in 1751. The first edition currently goes online for around £1000. 
> 
> Also, Cardiff City won 2-1 in a Premier League game at home against Norwich City on 1 February 2014, with goals in the 5th, 49th and 50th minute.


	31. Commitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I haven’t updated for so long! Without going into too much detail, let's just say that I found myself in a deep black pit of writer’s block that it took me quite a while to climb back out of. 
> 
> That said, once I did start writing again, this chapter actually flowed much better than anything I’ve written for a good long while, and I’m really very pleased with the result.
> 
> Please enjoy, and watch out for the curve ball 😉

Draw another picture  
Of a life you could've had  
Follow your instincts  
And choose the other path

\- Muse, “Hoodoo”

 

Dominic wakes to a sense of mild disorientation. He is naked, lying on his side, in what he can only assume is his and Hal’s bed, with what he can only assume is Hal’s arm casually slung around his waist, and Hal’s body so close behind him that the tip of his nose is lightly touching the nape of his neck. There is a hint of a very distinctive taste in his mouth, and a stickiness on his lips. His tongue darts out to lick away some of the dried on blood smeared around his mouth that leaves no doubt of what he and Hal got up to last night.

Last night. After Hal…

Dominic’s eyes fly open when the events of last night on the beach come rushing back to him. Hal _proposed_ to him. And he… he accepted. 

Without his conscious input, his eyes wander down to his left hand, outstretched on the mattress in front of him, and fix on the bright, glistening, white gold ring on his fourth finger. Seeing it there, solid and _real_ , the notion that comes with it – of engagement, of commitment, of _marriage_ – courses through his body like an electric shock, and he lets out a sharp, audible breath.

Predictably, Hal shifts behind him, the arm around his waist moving until Hal’s hand lies flush against his naked stomach, and soft lips press into the nape of his neck.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Hal mumbles sleepily against his skin, sending a small shiver down his spine, and despite himself, he feels a smile spreading across his lips.

“Morning,” he replies, his voice raspy and raw, and Hal chuckles behind him.

“You sound like you may have overindulged slightly last night,” he says, and Dominic feels a faint blush creep into his cheeks.

“I… can’t really remember,” he admits, prompting Hal to chuckle harder.

“I’m not surprised. You were rather… ferocious with me last night.”

“I’m sorry,” Dominic rushes out, and Hal’s arm tightens around him even more, his head shifting so his mouth is right next to Dominic’s ear, breath tickling the sensitive skin just underneath it.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Hal whispers into his ear, making him shiver once more, even as his smile widens.

“No?”

“No,” Hal whispers before placing a soft kiss against his ear, and his hand starts a slow, gentle caress over his stomach and chest. 

“Mmh, Hal,” Dominic breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he gives in to the sensation of Hal’s breath ghosting over the side of his neck, and the cold, smooth band of metal on Hal’s hand tracing across his naked skin, and a powerful wave of arousal spreads out from behind his navel. “Seeing as I don’t remember much of what happened last night,” he says, starting to sound the slightest bit breathless, “perhaps you could give me a little reminder?”

“Well, I suppose I could do that,” Hal says, and Dominic gasps as he feels the lightest scrape of what he clearly recognises as fangs against his skin. The feeling of it makes a sharp stab of hunger burst inside of him, and in only a split-second, his own fangs have broken through and his eyes have switched to black.

“Hal,” he whispers again, most definitely breathless now. A quiet whimper escapes his mouth as the very tip of Hal’s hardening length brushes against his upper thigh, and his own cock gives a little twitch as it springs to life in response. “Touch me, Hal,” he gasps, and Hal’s hand travels southward, brushing against the light trail of hair on his stomach and further down, until finally, he can feel the tips of Hal’s fingers making contact with his sensitive flesh.

“Touch you there?” Hal asks, mouth still hovering a hair’s breadth from that spot on his neck. Dominic just nods, another soft whimper escaping him when Hal’s fingers close around his fast growing erection. 

Hal’s own length gives a little twitch against his left buttock, and Dominic throws his hand out blindly behind him, makes contact with Hal’s hip bone as he gets his bearings before he carefully circles his fingers around Hal’s cock.

“Mmmh,” Hal hums against his neck. “Yes.”

Dominic chuckles breathily at the encouragement, trying hard to fall into a rhythm with Hal’s own hand on him, but the angle of his arm makes the movement clumsy and awkward. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and feels Hal’s lips stretch into a smile against his neck in return.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Hal whispers, and Dominic starts as he feels Hal’s other hand appearing out of nowhere, trailing slowly down the length of his spine, and his breath hitches as it wanders into the crack in between his buttocks. 

“Hal,” he breathes. “Please.”

Hal smiles against his skin once more. “Please what, Dominic?”

“Hal,” he repeats, letting go of Hal’s erection to lay his hand over Hal’s and guide him down further. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Hal asks.

Dominic nods emphatically and lets out a grunt-like sound that somewhat approximates a ‘yes’. 

Placing a soft kiss against his neck, Hal says, “Okay. One sec,” and then he pulls away, and Dominic whimpers at the sudden loss of contact. He tries to turn around to watch as Hal reaches over to his bedside table, but he finds himself too boneless, too lethargic to even move. _You may have overindulged slightly last night,_ Hal’s voice echoes in his mind, and he smiles and waits. It doesn’t take even as long as a minute until Hal is back in the space behind him, one hand snaking back around to continue its ministrations on his cock, while the other, cold and wet and slippery, disappears in the space between his buttocks again. 

Hal’s lips make contact with the very corner of his mouth, and he manages to turn his head just far enough to the side to capture them in a hungry kiss, fangs scraping against lips, drawing miniscule amounts of blood, and before he knows it, he is growling lowly in his throat, and Hal chuckles against his mouth.

“I love it when you get like this,” he whispers, and Dominic’s hand blindly flies out behind him again, once more making contact with Hal’s hip bone, and sliding backwards. 

Almost immediately Hal freezes, eyes widening, and Dominic quickly withdraws his hand with a mumbled apology.

Hal doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but leans in again for another kiss, this one gentler, slower, a reassurance, and Dominic brings his hand up to softly brush against Hal’s cheek instead. Hal smiles against his lips then, lightly scraping his fangs across Dominic’s bottom lip, his left hand restarting its movement on Dominic’s cock while the fingers of his right hand continue their preparation.

A few long moments later, Hal finally withdraws his hand and positions himself behind Dominic, slowly, carefully pushing inside. Dominic lets out a low moan at the sensation, a sharp burst of arousal making his cock jump between Hal’s fingers, and he lets his head fall back down on the pillow, unable to hold it up any longer. 

With the kiss interrupted, Hal’s mouth wanders back down to Dominic’s neck, fangs poking ever so lightly into the sensitive skin like a silent question. Dominic wordlessly nods, and Hal, not needing any further encouragement, bites down, the sharp pain of it travelling down the nerve roots into Dominic’s spine and making him shiver. 

Hal starts a slow, lazy rhythm behind him then, gently sucking on his neck, and a surge of hunger erupts deep inside Dominic, making him moan loudly. His hand reaches out in front of him this time, pulls Hal’s hand away from his cock and up, up to his mouth, and he quickly sinks his fangs into the soft skin of Hal’s wrist. 

Hal lets out a sharp breath against his skin, but doesn’t pull his arm away, and Dominic presses it tighter agains his mouth, letting the delicious blood run over his tongue and down his throat, while Hal’s own mouth is still clamped over his neck, and he continues his slow, gentle rhythm in and out of him. 

Dominic can feel his consciousness all but slip away from him, the blood rush clouding his brain in a thick haze, his focus narrowed down entirely to the sensations of blood and Hal and _Hal_ all around him, inside of him, drinking from him, and he is barely aware of his free hand closing around his own cock, giving a few desperate strokes before he comes, breathless and panting, onto the sheets in front of him. 

Hal is not far behind, and he can feel Hal’s cock twitch and jump a split-second before he shoots his release deep inside of him. It is only then that Dominic lets Hal’s wrist fall away from him, half-aware of but way past caring about the blood covering all of his mouth and chin. Hal’s mouth withdraws from his neck then, too, his head dropping heavily onto the pillow behind him, heavy breaths audible in the otherwise completely silent room.

They lie like this for a long moment, neither of them moving, Hal still buried deep inside of him, and a thought pops up in Dominic’s blood-drunk mind too quickly for him to stop himself from voicing it.

“What does it feel like?”

Hal tenses ever so slightly behind him, and he thinks he can hear a hint of a frown in his voice when he asks, “What do you mean?”

Dominic sighs, his eyes landing on their hands lying, fingers intertwined, on the mattress in front of him, two identical rings glistening in the bright morning sunlight. “I mean that I’ve just made a pretty big commitment,” he says quietly, suddenly feeling just a little bit uncomfortable with the direction his words are taking, “and I realised that I will probably never know what it’s like now.” As he says the last bit, he gently squeezes around Hal’s softening cock inside of him, and he can hear Hal let out a sharp breath as realisation hits him.

There is a pause, in which he can feel Hal nuzzling into the back of his neck before, in a quiet, contemplative voice, he says, “You might still.”

“But Hal—”

“I’m just saying,” Hal interrupts, placing a small peck right into the nape of his neck, “that you might one day get the opportunity.”

Dominic frowns. “But Hen—”

“He knows that I trust you, Dominic,” Hal says quietly. “He knows that we trust you. And perhaps, one day, he will learn to as well.”

Despite Hal’s encouraging words, Dominic can only feel the frown on his face deepening, and he slowly, carefully pulls away from Hal and turns around in his embrace so he can get a better look at him. Gazing deeply into Hal’s hazel eyes, all he can see is trust, love and sincerity, and he slowly shakes his head. 

“I’m not sure about that, Hal.”

Hal smiles at him, one of his hands coming up to lightly brush against the side of Dominic’s face.

“What I said to you last night,” he says seriously, “please take my word for it that I didn’t say any of it lightly. I love you, I trust you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And,” he adds, almost like an afterthought, “I want to make you happy, any way I can.”

Dominic’s brow furrows again. “But I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable in a bid to make me happy. It was just a question, Hal.” He pauses, smiles. “A question that you still haven’t answered, by the way.”

Hal returns his smile. “I don’t know how I possibly can. It’s… not really comparable to anything else. You’ll just have to experience it yourself. And I’m s—”

“Shh.” Dominic quickly lays a finger against Hal’s lips. “No. I don’t want you to ever apologise for that, you hear me?”

Hal nods wordlessly, and he slowly withdraws his finger, replacing it a moment later with his lips in a lingering kiss. 

Hal grins as he pulls away. “We’re both disgusting,” he points out, and Dominic laughs quietly.

“I suppose we are,” he replies, eyes flicking down to Hal’s mouth, which is just as blood-smeared as his own. “We can clean up later,” he adds with a small shrug, as he leans in for another slow, gentle kiss. 

This time, when they pull away, neither of them speaks, and they just lie in silence for a long while, enjoying each other’s closeness, basking in the afterglow and, for Dominic at least, the warm, comforting, calming effect of the blood rush. 

Despite – or maybe _because of_ – the haze in his brain, Dominic can’t keep his thoughts from cycling back over and over the events of last night, the unfamiliar feeling of cold metal around his finger, the sincerity of Hal’s eyes and voice when he spoke those words. An old question resurfaces in his mind then, one that he always wanted an answer to but never quite had the courage to ask, and once more his mouth opens before he has a chance to stop it.

“How many people have you been married to before me?” he blurts out, quickly averting his eyes as he regrets asking as soon as the question leaves his lips. 

Hal doesn’t answer straight away, but lets his fingers gently brush against Dominic’s cheek before he curls them under his chin, pushing his head up the tiniest fraction to make their eyes meet again. Dominic is surprised to see Hal giving him an almost sheepish looking smile.

“Four,” Hal says quietly. “But none of them was a vampire.”

Dominic’s eyes widen. “Four?”

“Yes,” Hal confirms, nodding. “But you're the first v—”

“Only four?” Dominic cuts in, giving Hal an incredulous look. “In five hundred years?”

Hal sighs deeply, before a quiet, slightly bitter laugh escapes his lips, and he says, “Harry is not the marrying type.”

Dominic freezes, brow furrowing in surprise. “Harry?” he asks carefully.

Hal looks back at him intently for a moment, then shrugs and says, “It's his preferred name I think.” He pauses, an uncertain expression flitting across his face, even as Dominic’s own eyes widen at the admission. After a moment, Hal clears his throat and adds, “I suppose it helps differentiate the… three of us.”

Dominic swallows thickly, fighting against the cotton wool in his brain to string some coherent thoughts together. “Well, I’m not exactly an expert in any of this,” he says slowly, “but I thought the goal is not to differentiate, but to integrate.”

Hal’s face hardens slightly at his words, and there is more than a hint of bitterness in his voice when he says, “Yes, well, sorry if I’m having a hard time accepting that.”

Dominic quickly reaches a hand out to card through Hal’s soft, sleep-tousled hair. “No, don't be,” he says, smiling. “Actually, you recognising and accepting his preferred name is… kind of a positive step I think. It does mean that you two must talk to each other more.”

Hal huffs. “Indeed.”

Dominic shakes his head, his fingers still stroking lightly through Hal’s hair. “It’s a good thing, Hal. You’re doing well. I’m proud of you.” He tightens his hold on the back of Hal’s head then, pulls him towards him, closes the gap between them to meet him in another slow, languid kiss, the taste of half-dried blood hanging heavily in the air they share between them. 

They continue kissing like this for a long moment, until the sound of Dominic’s phone ringing sharply interrupts the moment. At first, he tightens his hold on the back of Hal’s head, trying to ignore the loud, insistent ringing, but when it starts to ring a second time, mere moments after the first, he lets out a frustrated sigh and pulls away, throwing a hand out behind him to grope for the phone on his bedside table. 

Bringing it up to his ear without so much as looking at the screen, he says, “Hello?”

“Dominic?” Natasha’s voice sounds frantic on the other end. “Is Tom around? Because he’s not answering his phone and I really need to talk to him, but I can’t get hold of him, and I—”

“Tasha, Tasha, slow down,” he interrupts, frowning, as his sluggish brain tries to keep up with the break-neck speed of her words. “What about Tom?” he asks finally.

His words are followed by a long silence, and Tasha’s voice is hesitant when she asks, “Dominic? Are you all right? You sound… odd.”

A sharp laugh escapes his mouth before he can help himself. “I’m fine, Tasha, thanks, just…” 

“Just?” she prompts, and he sighs. The topic of him drinking Hal’s blood has never come up between them before, and he doesn’t intend right here and now to be the first time.

“Nothing,” he says, careful to keep his voice as clear and measured as he can. “What about Tom, Tasha?”

He is aware of Hal’s sharp gaze on him, sending him a silent question, and he quickly shakes his head, just as Tasha says, “I need to talk to him about Adie.”

Dominic feels a lump rising into his throat, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow, rolling onto his back. “You mean…?”

Tasha takes a deep breath, and he can all but hear her nodding through the phone line, even before she says, “He’s a werewolf.”

The words finally manage lift some of the haze that has been surrounding his brain, and he inhales sharply and asks, “Are you okay, Tasha?”

“Yes, don’t worry, we’re both fine,” she says, and it’s only now that he picks up the exhaustion in her voice. “Kept me up all night with his howls. And probably most of the neighbourhood as well,” she adds with a small laugh. “But when I went back into his room this morning, he was lying fast asleep on the floor, and he seemed absolutely fine.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dominic says, a brief smile flitting across his face, even as his heart breaks for the small baby boy who will have to live his whole life with that awful curse. “Tom is… I’m not actually sure, I would assume, if he’s not answering his phone, that he’s still in the cellar.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Tasha agrees. “Well, could you… if you see him, could you maybe ask him to call me back?”

“Of course, Tasha,” he says, looking across at Hal, and from the look in Hal’s eyes, he can tell that he must have heard both parts of the conversation. They quickly say their goodbyes, and Dominic lets the phone drop away from his ear, sighs deeply and says, “Well, fuck.”

Hal gives him a small smile. “He’ll be fine, Dominic. Tom was turned when he was barely older than Adie is now. And if there is anyone who knows how to keep himself safe and not hurt anyone during a werewolf transformation, it’s him. I don’t think Tom ever attacked anyone in his life.” He pauses, smiles again, and at Dominic’s less than convinced expression, adds, “He will be just fine, you’ll see.”

Dominic shakes his head. “He will still have to go through the transformation every month, for the rest of his life,” he points out, a small shudder running through him as he remembers the agonised screams he used to hear from the direction of Bobby’s room, on those nights when he was working late and the moon stood high and bright in the sky. Then he remembers another night, not in the Archive, but standing in a cold, dark corridor in the basement of the Barry Grand Hotel, and similar – no, the very same – screams tore through the doorway across from him. He quickly shuts down that thought. The less time spent thinking about that particular time of his life, the better. Looking back up at Hal, he gives him a small smile and a nod, and says, “You’re right. He will be fine.”

***

Natasha’s news managed to put quite a dampener on what up until that point seemed to be a very enjoyable morning, but following another long, lazy make-out session, a shower and a shave, Hal is relieved to see a bright smile lighting up Dominic’s face as he holds out a hand to him, grasping the one that holds the ring, his own thumb immediately searching for it, almost subconsciously, to reassure himself that last night really happened. That he actually managed to go through with his plan.

Despite everything he put into the last month to make amends to Dominic in every way he could possibly think of, he still wasn’t sure, even as he was standing on the beach, the ring box like a lead weight in his pocket, whether a step as big as a marriage proposal would not appear to have come too soon after what the other one had done. 

But he needn’t have worried, he realises now, as he leads Dominic along the upstairs hallway and down the stairs towards the kitchen. Even though, in all honesty, he isn’t entirely sure whether Dominic, even now, is fully aware of the magnitude of what he has agreed to. There is a reason, Hal thinks, that he never proposed to another vampire before. Human lifespans are limited. Forever is a very long time.

Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, he steps through the doorway into the kitchen, and Tom’s tired eyes snap up from his cereal bowl and widen when they fall on Hal.

“Hal, mate, I gotta talk to ya ‘bout summat,” he says, sounding almost as frantic as Natasha did on the phone earlier.

Dominic, it seems, has had a similar train of thought, as he quickly says, “Tom, you need to speak to Tasha—”

“Yeah, I do, tha’s the whole point,” Tom says seriously, eyebrows drawn together as he looks back and forth between them. “Adie’s already a month old, an’ I _still_ haven’ had the courage to ask ‘er—” he breaks off suddenly, and his eyes widen when they fall on Hal’s left hand, then wander across to their joint hands on the other side, and finally come to settle back on Hal’s face again. “When… did ya… I mean… last night?” Hal nods, and Tom jumps to his feet, a big smile breaking out on his face as he quickly crosses the room and envelopes him in a big bear hug. “Congratulations, man.”

Hal lets out a small, breathless laugh at the sudden assault, the werewolf smell still very strong in the air around Tom, and he awkwardly pats him on the back a couple of times. “Thanks, Tom,” he says quietly.

Tom pulls away from him and turns towards Dominic, and he smiles, pats him on the shoulder and says, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Dominic replies, returning his smile.

Tom looks back and forth between the two of them, and his expression turns thoughtful. “So I come to ya – both of ya – for help an’ advice on how best to pop the question to Tasha, an’ you jus’ go an’—”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything,” Dominic chimes in, holding up his hands. “I had no idea he was going to ask until… well… until he did.” Looking across at him, Hal can see a faint blush colouring his cheeks, and he smiles and winks, laughing quietly as he sees the blush deepen.

“Well, all right then,” Tom says, and Hal’s eyes snap back across to him. “So why didn’t ya say nowt, huh? We coulda… I dunno… planned it together or summat.”

Hal huffs. “I didn’t think I needed any help, Tom, thank you,” he says, and Tom sighs.

“No, mate, but I did. Still do, as a matter of f—”

“Tom, before you think any more about asking Tasha to marry you, there is something you need to know,” Dominic cuts in again. “About Adie,” he adds quietly, and Tom turns towards him with alarm in his eyes. 

“’S he all righ’?” he asks quickly, and Dominic swallows and nods.

“He’s fine, but… you should really talk to Tasha.”

Tom looks at him for a long moment, before he grabs his phone from the counter behind Hal, mumbles a quick, “Excuse me,” and walks through the swinging doors into the living room. A moment later, Tom’s voice can be heard from the other side of the room, but Hal does his best not to listen in. That conversation is private.

Turning back towards Dominic, he smiles and asks, “Breakfast, fiancé?”

Dominic’s eyes widen, and the blush is back in full force. “I… yes, I g—”

But he never gets to finish the sentence as suddenly, somewhere to Hal’s left, Alex’s voice blurts out, “What?”

He whirls around to face her, racking his brains to think when in the last two minutes she could have rent-a-ghosted into the room without him so much as noticing her.

“Did I just hear that right?” she asks, staring at Hal with raised eyebrows.

“I…” he croaks, his voice breaking on the single word, and he clears his throat and asks, “When did you come in?”

“Just now,” Alex says. “But don’t change the subject, Hal. Did I just hear you correctly?” Her eyes pointedly flick over towards Dominic before they land back on Hal, and he sighs.

“Yes, Alex, you did. I—”

The rest of the sentence is drowned out by what he can only describe as an ear-splitting squeal as she launches herself at him and throws her arms around him so forcefully that she almost knocks the wind out of him. 

“All right, Alex,” he says placatingly as she starts jumping up and down in front of him, her arms still tightly wound around his shoulders.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” she says when she finally pulls away, what feels like several minutes later, and Hal lets out a quiet laugh and looks down, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of her.

“Thank you, Alex,” he says, the smile on his face growing as he watches her grab hold of Dominic next, hugging him just as tightly as himself. 

“I can’t believe you actually said yes to that idiot,” she mumbles into Dominic’s ear, and Dominic bursts out laughing. 

“While I would love to claim that he got me drunk before he asked me, I have to admit that all I had was a glass of wine,” he says, looking across to Hal with a glint in his eyes. “I guess I really do love that idiot.”

Alex huffs. “Well, rather you than me, Blondie,” she says, giving Hal a significant look, and he lifts his eyebrows at her. 

“What did I ever do to y—”

“Just… don’t go there, Hal,” Alex cuts in, holding his gaze, and after a moment he sighs and nods. “Good. Now,” she continues, looking back and forth between the two of them. “When’s the wedding?”

Hal feels Dominic’s sharp gaze landing on him, and he quickly meets his eyes before he looks back at Alex and says, “We haven’t planned that far ahead yet.”

Alex sighs. “Ah well, fair enough. I guess you’re not exactly going to have to organise a huge party. Although…” she trails off, and Hal gives her a quizzical look.

“What?” he asks, and she starts out of her thoughts and gives him a small smile.

“No, nothing,” she says a little bit too quickly.

Hal looks at her intently for a moment, but when she doesn’t say anything more, he sighs and mutters. “All right.” Then, with a glance towards Dominic, he adds, “Did you say yes to breakfast?”

Dominic looks back at him with big eyes. “It’s what people do in the morning, isn’t it?”

Hal huffs out a laugh. “People? Yes. You? Not so much.”

“Well,” Dominic says with a shrug and a small smile. “Perhaps I will have to start making more of an effort.”

Hal returns the smile and moves in to press a quick kiss against Dominic’s lips. “That’s what I like to hear,” he says, following up his words with another kiss, and somewhere behind him, he can hear Alex let out a quiet laugh.

“I’d forgotten just how cute you guys can be together when you actually get along,” she says, and Hal can’t help the chuckle that burst out of his mouth as he pulls away.

“So had I, for a while,” he admits, looking deeply into Dominic’s eyes, delighted to see another faint blush colouring his cheeks.

Reluctantly, Hal turns away to fill the kettle and put some bread in the toaster, while Dominic takes a seat at the table and Alex immediately swoops in, prompting him to give her a better look at the ring. 

“Did you choose it, Hal?” she asks, and he turns around to find her watching him, with Dominic’s left hand loosely held in both of hers. Dominic is giving her a look that is partway between elated and mortified, and Hal feels a sudden rush of emotion rise up in him, an emotion he can’t even name, except that it makes him feel half giddy with joy.

 _God, you are a soppy idiot, aren’t you?_ Harry’s voice drawls in his head then, and against his better judgement, he barks out a quick laugh, drawing both Alex’s and Dominic’s attention.

“What?” Dominic asks with a somewhat uncertain smile, and Hal just smiles back at him and shakes his head.

“Nothing, never mind.”

Dominic holds his gaze for a long while, silently asking for an explanation, and he holds it, but doesn’t say anything more. 

Eventually the silence is broken by Alex loudly announcing, “You know what? I know when I’m unwelcome somewhere, and you guys quite clearly need some time alone.” Letting go of Dominic’s hand, she quickly gets to her feet. “See you later,” she adds, before disappearing into thin air a moment later.

Hal quickly turns back to the counter and finishes making their breakfast, carrying it over to the table and taking a seat across from Dominic. He is vaguely aware of the front door opening and closing, signalling Tom’s departure from the house, and he takes one moment to silently hope his friend is okay, that he doesn’t blame himself for Adie’s fate. Making a quick mental note to make sure he checks in with Tom later, he lifts his eyes towards Dominic.

“So,” he says, smiling as he catches Dominic taking a hearty bite out of his toast. “Does you accepting my marriage proposal mean you have actually forgiven me?”

To his surprise, Dominic gives him a calculating look for a moment, before he smiles back at him and says, “Well, as a matter of fact, there is one more favour I was going to ask you.”

***

Why exactly he has agreed to this, other than his earlier voiced pledge to do anything he can to make Dominic happy, he honestly doesn’t know. There is a certain appeal, he has to admit, to walking through the Archive next to Dominic, with Dominic’s hand lightly brushing against his every few steps, not quite holding hands, but just walking close enough to each other along the narrow corridors that physical contact can’t quite be avoided. Never mind the fact that Dominic downright refused to take off his ring as he put on his grey suit this morning, boldly showing off the white gold band for anyone who cares enough to take notice.

Turning around a by now familiar corner, Hal frowns. “They’re still here?” he asks, indicating the heavy steel door leading to the former werewolf block, and Dominic sighs, a small crease in his brow as he turns around to him.

“Yes, I’m afraid they are,” he confirms. “I’ve been asking Adrian to find alternative accommodation for them for a while, but there always seems to be something else that’s more important.” He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh. “The comfort of a group of Type 2s doesn’t tend to be at the top of anyone’s priority list.”

Hal looks at him for a moment, a small, crooked smile forming on his lips. “I like it when you talk all business like that,” he says in a low voice, and Dominic’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment, before he returns his smile.

“Oh yes?” he asks. Hal nods, and Dominic’s smile widens. “In that case, perhaps I should call you a Type 2 more often.”

Hal huffs out a laugh. “No. Thanks. I’m quite glad you finally left that behind you.”

Dominic smiles at him for a moment longer, before, with a loud throat clear, he says, “Right. Ready to go in?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Hal replies with a sigh, and follows Dominic through the door.

As much as he prepared himself beforehand, the immediate squeal of “Hal!” from the little red-haired girl still takes him by surprise, and he freezes in the doorway, six pairs of eyes fixed on him and Dominic, who, he can’t help but notice, throws a nervous glance towards the oldest boy.

“Dominic, Hal, it’s good to see you,” Fleur’s voice sounds from the corner of the room then, and they both turn around to her to find her giving them a warm, if tired smile. Hal’s eyes narrow as he gives her a closer look and notices the slightly ashen quality of her skin, the lines on her face and dark circles under her eyes that he is sure weren’t there last time they met.

“It’s good to see you too, Fleur,” Dominic says, returning her smile as, just like last time, he takes hold of Hal’s hand and pulls him along as he walks up to her. “I do apologise for still not having found anywhere for you to stay, but please take my word for it that I have been trying.”

“Oh, yes, don’t worry,” Fleur says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I bet you’ve had enough on your plate, what with… you know.” She gives him a significant look, and Dominic swallows visibly.

“Yes, I have, but that doesn’t mean I should neglect—”

“You haven’t been neglecting us, Dominic,” Fleur assures him. “We are given food and… blood… and a safe roof over our heads, which is really all we can ask for.”

Dominic opens his mouth to reply when, from the other side of the room, the little girl – Emily – calls Hal’s name again, and they all turn around to face her. 

Looking up at Hal with huge eyes, she asks, “You married yet?”

Hal bursts out laughing, vaguely aware of Dominic joining in, and Fleur good-naturedly scolding the girl.

“Not quite yet,” he says eventually, when he has caught his breath enough to form words. “But we are one step closer.”

Emily’s face falls. “Rubbish,” she mutters, and he laughs again.

“I’m very sorry, Emily,” he says with a smile.

She lets out a deep, dramatic sigh and says, “I guess the two of us just weren’t meant to be.” 

Hal has to work hard to suppress another laugh from bursting forth, and he nods solemnly and says, “I suppose you’re right.”

“What do you mean, you’re one step closer?” Fleur speaks up behind him then, and he turns around and gives her a meaningful look. 

Fleur’s eyebrows nearly reach her hairline as she stares at Hal, then across at Dominic, and finally her gaze drops to both of their hands, and she smiles. “Congratulations, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says, and Hal echoes his own thanks a moment later.

“What?” Emily pipes up once more, and he turns around again to see her frowning at him. “You’re marrying _him_?” she asks, pointing and scowling at Dominic, who lets out a surprised laugh. Emily, however, is not deterred in the slightest when her eyes narrow and she continues, “Is that why you made him into a vampire?”

“Em, shut _up_ ,” Bernie says with a groan, and Hal quickly shakes his head. 

“No, no, it’s all right.” Turning back towards Emily, he adds, “No, Emily, that wasn’t the reason. I hadn’t planned to recruit him. It was…” he trails off, looks across to Dominic, who is watching him intently with an unreadable expression. “…an emergency,” he finishes with a small, sad smile, seeing the expression mirrored a moment later on Dominic’s face. 

“So it was,” he agrees with a nod towards Emily. “He saved my life.”

Emily’s eyes widen. “That’s so _romantic_ ,” she says, and Hal is amused to find the other girl, Rosie if he remembers correctly, and the smallest boy, Ali, nod quietly in agreement. 

“Well…” Dominic mutters next to him, but seeing the look on Hal’s face, seems to decide against voicing his thoughts, and gives a thoughtful nod instead. “Yes, I suppose it was.” There is a beat of silence then, before Dominic looks at each of the children in turn and says, “Now, I understand that you had some more questions for Hal?”

There is a loud chorus of ‘yeah’s, and at Fleur’s prompting, the children all huddle together side-by-side on one of the beds, while Hal takes a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Not, however, before he sees Fleur lift hand up to her forehead with a flinch, swaying slightly in place before she, too, takes a seat on one fo the remaining chairs.

“Are you okay?” he asks, forehead creasing as he looks back at her, and she gives him a stoic little smile that they both know doesn’t fool anyone.

“Yes, I’m fine, I’ve just… been getting these headaches of late. Don’t worry about it. They usually go as quickly as they come.”

“If you’re sure,” Hal says, noticing that Dominic is also watching her with a concerned frown on his face. 

“I’ll go get you some painkillers,” Dominic says after a moment, and ignoring Fleur’s repeated assurances that really, she is fine, he quickly leaves the room. 

Hal turns back to the children then, all five of them watching him with big, expectant eyes, and asks, “So, any questions?”

There is a moment of silence as none them seems to want to be the first one to speak, before finally, Jake lifts his hand, and before Hal even has a chance to acknowledge it, asks, “Is it true that some vampires try to live without drinking any blood?”

Hal nods. “Yes. In fact, I have done so myself for many years, until a… recent unfortunate setback,” he replies, trying to keep his voice as measured as he can.

Jake’s face darkens. “But why would you want to do that? Don’t you get hungry?”

Hal huffs out a quiet laugh. “Oh yes, of course I do. It’s about… overcoming that urge, proving to yourself that you can exist without giving in, without hurting people.”

“But you can drink blood without hurting people,” Bernie chimes in. “It’s what we do. We drink donated blood.”

“And that’s very admirable of you,” Hal says, choosing his next words very carefully, “but not every vampire has that kind of self-control. Some end up hurting people, whether they want to or not, because they find it increasingly difficult to resist the urge.”

Bernie looks thoughtful for a moment, and is about to reply when Jake spits out, “Bullshit.”

“Language, Jake!” Fleur scolds from the corner, just as Hal’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Would you like to elaborate on that?” he asks calmly, and Jake rolls his eyes and sighs.

“I mean, you say that some vampires might hurt people _whether they want to or not_ , but the way I see it, deep down, part of being a vampire is _wanting_ to hurt people. It’s in our nature, isn’t it?”

Hal gives Jake a piercing look. “I wouldn’t say that, no,” he says quietly. “I can obviously only speak for myself here, but I certainly don’t have any such feelings towards humans.”

 _That’s because you have me,_ Harry speaks up in his head, and he quickly closes his eyes and sighs.

_Shut up, I can’t deal with you right now._

_But you have to admit that I’m right,_ Harry insists, and he sighs deeply once more, trying to formulate a response, when Bernie’s voice pulls him back into the here and now.

“Hal?”

Eyes snapping up to meet the boy’s, Hal gives him a small, apologetic smile and says, “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

“I wasn’t,” Bernie says with a frown. “You were just… spacing out, is all.”

“Ah,” Hal says with a quick nod and a smile. “Well, my apologies. Any more questions?”

There is another long silence, some time during which Dominic returns with a glass of water and two small, white tablets. He quickly holds both out to Fleur, who sighs, but reluctantly takes them.

Eventually, the smallest boy, Ali, hesitantly raises his hand, and Hal gives him an encouraging smile. “Yes?”

“Well, I was just wondering,” Ali says, sounding just as shy as he looks, and Hal nods for him to continue. Ali takes a nervous look at the others around him, then back at Hal, before finally, in a voice so quiet it is barely audible, he asks, “Was Dracula real?”

Almost on cue, there are a couple of groans coming from the older boys, and Ali looks about ready to sink into the ground with embarrassment when Hal smiles at him and says, “That’s an interesting story actually.”

Immediately, not only the five pairs of eyes from across the room, but also Dominic and Fleur stare at him as if he has grown a second head.

“You’re not serious,” Bernie breathes, and Hal lets out a quiet chuckle. 

“Oh yes, I’m very serious,” he says, then settles down more comfortably in his chair, lets his eyes roam across the children, who are all watching him with bated breath, and starts, “So, it was winter, I think, some time in the 1530s…”

***

Even four hours later, sitting at his desk, Dominic can hardly keep the smile off his face when he thinks back to Hal’s surely vastly exaggerated but nonetheless fascinating retelling of the time he met the real Count Dracula. Whether or not any of it was actually true, it certainly managed to entertain the vampire kids more than anything his men could ever have provided them. Dominic thinks with a pang of how much he would have enjoyed hearing Hal’s stories when he was their age, a thought that brings with it the slightly uncomfortable truth that when he was their age, Hal would have been exactly the same as he is now, and he quickly diverts his thoughts back to the file on his desk before they continue down that avenue.

Reading through Lady Mary’s file for what must surely be the tenth time in a bid to find something, anything that might point him to her current whereabouts, his sensitive ears suddenly pick up frantic footsteps in the corridor outside, and he frowns as his eyes almost automatically wander across the room to the door. Not a moment later, the door flies open, and a wide-eyed Mike half walks, half runs across the room towards him.

“Sir,” he calls, panting heavily and gesturing back towards the corridor. “There’s something wrong with the woman, sir.”

Dominic’s frown deepens, even as he finds himself jumping to his feet. “The woman?”

“The Type 2 childrens’ mother, sir,” Mike clarifies, and Dominic’s eyes widen.

“Fleur? What’s wrong with her?” he asks urgently, following Mike back through the door and down the corridor.

“We think she’s having a seizure, sir,” Mike gasps. “We’ve called an ambulance already, but we need to get the children away from her, they won’t so much as let us near her at the moment.”

Dominic’s head reels as he tries to process this information. He mind goes back to the way she looked earlier, grey and sickly, and before he even realises it, he mutters, “The headaches.”

“I’m sorry, what, sir?” Mike asks, frowning as he looks back at him.

“She was complaining of headaches this morning,” Dominic explains. “Do you know if she’s mentioned anything like that before?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Mike says, and, with a slightly sheepish look, adds, “I’m not usually the one to deal with them. The child Type 2s give me the creeps, sir.”

As much as he tries, Dominic can’t keep the slight scowl off his face when he asks, “Why is that, Mike?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Mike says with a shrug. “They’re Type 2s, aren’t they?”

“So they are,” Dominic agrees, deciding it would be best for all involved if he dropped the subject.

They continue down the corridor in silence, and when they arrive at the Type 3 block, suddenly there is a flurry of activity.

“Sir,” Adrian greets him when he enters, a concerned look on his face as he gestures towards the far corner of the room, where Fleur is lying on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. All five children have gathered around her, and Jake and Bernie are glaring up at the two men who, from the looks of it, are trying to place a pillow under her head. “Whatever we’ve said, they haven’t let us near her, sir,” Adrian echoes Mike’s earlier words. 

Dominic tears his eyes away from Fleur just long enough to nod in acknowledgement at Adrian before he walks past him, and the children immediately look up at him as they notice him approaching.

“We’re just trying to help her,” he says calmly. “We’re trying to prevent her from hurting herself.”

“That’s what you say,” Jake snarls at him. Then the boy’s eyes wander around the room, narrowing as they fall back on Dominic, and he asks, “Do they know?”

“No,” Dominic chokes out quickly, giving Jake an imploring look and a tiny shake of his head. 

Jake scoffs, but turns back towards Fleur, who is still fitting on the floor. 

“Really, guys, just give us some space so we can help her,” Dominic tries again, to no avail. 

Bernie, at least, looks up at the man holding the pillow, holds out his hand and says, “Give it here.” The man looks across to Dominic, who gives him a quick nod, and he hands the pillow to the boy. Between them, they manage to carefully place it under Fleur’s head, and Dominic smiles.

“Well done, kids,” he says quietly, eyes fixed on Fleur’s still wildly shaking body. It seems like minutes pass this way, with no one quite sure of what to do, until finally, there are new footsteps coming down the corridor outside, and someone shouts, “The ambulance is here!”

Mere seconds later, a couple of green-clad paramedics walk in, and Dominic has a sudden, unwelcome flashback to his flat in London, to sharp electric shocks hitting his unbeating heart, and he shudders. Bringing his attention back to the scene in front of him, he watches as the ambulance crew walk up to Fleur, and to everyone’s relief, the children back away just enough for the paramedics to stabilise her and administer some medication. 

Another minute or two pass, until finally, the shaking slows and stops, and the paramedics talk quietly amongst themselves as they carefully transfer Fleur’s now limp and lifeless body onto a stretcher. 

“Where are you taking her?” Bernie calls out, eyes wide and terrified as he watches his mum being wheeled towards the door. 

“The hospital, kid,” one of the paramedics, a tall, well-built man with short-cropped silver-grey hair, says. 

“I’m coming with her,” Bernie says instantly, taking a step forward, and the other children nod with a chorus of ‘me too’s, but the paramedic holds out a hand to them, stopping them in their tracks.

“You can’t come with just now,” he says, looking around the room, presumably to find whoever is in charge, “but I’m sure one of these gentlemen can drive you to the hospital later, once she is stable enough to have visitors.”

“Of course,” Dominic says with a nod, earning himself a sharp look from Adrian.

“Sir—”

“Not now, Adrian,” Dominic says in a warning tone, eyes flicking over towards the paramedics, and Adrian sighs and nods.

“But I want to go with her now,” Bernie speaks up again. “She’s my mum, I don’t want her to just go, I want to go with her.”

“So do I,” Jake says next to him, glaring at the paramedic, who shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says, and without another word wheels the trolley out of the room. 

“No!” Jake shouts, running forward, and the next thing Dominic knows, Adrian jumps forward to restrain the boy, and then there is a loud, agonised cry, and there is blood. 

The blood hits Dominic’s nostrils with such force that, for a long moment, he is not aware of anything else around him. There is a vague sense that something is wrong, that someone has been _attacked_ , and there is yelling and screaming and hurried footsteps as more men flock in, and someone is calling his name, but all he can do is stand, stock-still, holding his breath to try and stop the irresistible scent from reaching him.

“Mr Rook? Mr Rook, sir?”

It is Mike, he realises after a moment. Mike is calling his name. He tries to open his mouth, but speaking would mean breathing and he can’t do that, he can’t. He can feel his gums itching a split-second before his fangs break through, and now he won’t even be able to open his mouth at all, he thinks distractedly, but the blood is still there, bright red right in front of him, where a small group of his men have finally managed to pull Jake off of the bleeding Adrian, but the action has brought the gaping hole in his neck right into his field of vision, and he can feel his eyes starting to itch as well now, and he needs to get away from here before his eyes switch, he can’t let them see, he can’t…

But then again…

The blood on Adrian’s neck is so inviting, so bright, so beautiful… he never realised how beautiful a colour red is. 

_Red is my favourite colour,_ he hears the voice of young Henry, and he lets out a quiet breathy chuckle.

A mistake by any stretch of the imagination, he realises a moment later, as he is assaulted by a strong wave of that sweet, sweet scent, and he quickly clamps his mouth shut and finally sets himself in motion. 

He bolts through the door and all but runs down the corridor, ignoring the calls of “Mr Rook? Sir?” that follow along behind him. He runs faster than he even knew he could, his feet carrying him somewhere he didn’t even realise he was going until he is there. And he pushes open the door to the storage room almost in a trance, and he opens the large fridge, and the room bursts into bright colours around him as he lays eyes on the countless flasks of dark, beautiful red lined up neatly next to each other on the shelves inside.

A quiet whimper escapes him as he looks at the flasks, so many of them, right there in front of him for the taking, and his hand shakes wildly as he grabs one, fingers closing tightly around it before he slams the fridge door shut again and exits the room. It wouldn’t do to be caught with this, he thinks, making his way further along the corridor until he reaches the men’s room.

He quickly steps inside, makes it into one of the cubicles and closes and locks the door behind him. Then he takes in a deep, much needed breath, finally allowing himself to now he is securely locked away from the rest of the men. The hunger is a white-hot, searing flame inside of him, and with trembling fingers, he slowly unscrews the lid on the flask. 

The smell that greets him isn’t as potent as what he smelled in the Type 3 block mere moments before, but nonetheless it is sweeter than anything he knows he has ever tasted before, and he inhales deeply, lets his eyes slip closed, just savours that smell for a long, blissful moment. But the hunger only grows stronger inside him, and he quickly lifts the flask up to his lips, halting in the last moment, and his eyes fly open as the realisation hits him of what he is about to do.

This is it, he thinks, looking down at his trembling hand holding the small flask. He drinks this, and there is no going back. He drinks this, and he commits himself to a lifetime of lusting after human blood. More than a lifetime, he reminds himself. An eternity.

The door to the men’s room bursts open, then, and there it is again, that smell, that delicious, unmistakable smell, and what is he doing here? Why is he here now? He almost managed to get himself back under control again why did he…

His hand lifts back up towards his mouth before he even knows it, and the cold rim of the flask lies against his lips, and it only takes the slightest flick of his wrist for the blood to flow into his mouth, over his tongue, and down his throat, and he has to do everything he can to not moan out loud at the taste, that taste, so much better even than he imagined in his wildest dreams. And oh, how he imagined it. Night after night, again and again and again, and how did he ever think that those dreams were nightmares? 

Dominic gulps greedily as he tips the flask further and further up, until the last drop lands on his tongue, and he licks his lips for more of that taste, but that was it, that was the last of it, and he leans back against the side wall of the cubicle, suddenly feeling dizzy on his feet, and he takes a long moment to just exist, to burn this moment into his memory, because this, surely, is what his existence is all about.

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there – it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. His perception of time, it seems, is completely out. But eventually, he opens his eyes, and he becomes aware of his surroundings again, and he realises that he is standing in a toilet cubicle, holding an empty blood flask. 

The blood coursing through his veins is making him feel calmer and more carefree than he has felt for a long time, and his fangs have long since retracted, his eyes gone back to their natural blue. 

Letting out a deep, contented sigh, Dominic unlocks and opens the cubicle door, takes a step into the brightly lit room… and stops in his tracks as his eyes fall on Adrian, standing at the sink with a wet paper towel pressed to the side of his neck. The man’s eyes widen as he hears a sound behind him, then looks up into the mirror, before he whirls around to face Dominic, and realisation dawns on his face in a matter of seconds.

“Sir,” he breathes, barely audible, his eyes huge with terror as he slowly backs away from him, his free hand fumbling in his pocket for something. 

“Listen, Adrian,” Dominic starts, throwing a placating hand out towards the other man, and he realises too late what it was that Adrian was searching for when a sharp, stabbing pain explodes across his forehead, and he feels himself manifest before he has any chance to stop it. Looking back up at Adrian, his eyes fall on the large, black, wooden cross they all carry, currently pointed straight at him, and he takes another deep breath, tries to ignore the pain, and says, “Adrian, please, listen—”

“How long, sir?” Adrian asks, nostrils flaring as he looks back at him with an expression of pure loathing. “How long have you been hiding this from us?”

Dominic swallows hard, one hand up in front of him in a fruitless bid to shield himself from the burning pain afflicted by the cross. “Adrian, please, do you mind?” he croaks, gesturing vaguely towards said cross. “I’m not going to attack you.”

Adrian looks uncertain for a long moment, but eventually he lowers the cross, and Dominic lets out a deep, shaky sigh. 

“Thank you.”

Adrian huffs. “Yeah, well. Are you going to answer my question now?”

Dominic sighs and looks down. “About two months,” he says quietly, and Adrian lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Two months? So basically since you got back from your ‘mystery illness’, yes?” He smiles grimly and shakes his head. “God, I’ve been so stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Dominic says. “It’s nothing you could’ve expected.”

But Adrian just shakes his head harder. “It’s what we’re _trained_ for,” he scoffs, and his face distorts into a grimace when he adds, “How could I not see a Type 2 right under my nose for _two fucking months_?”

Dominic takes a deep breath. “Adrian, listen—”

“You do realise I will have to report this back, don’t you?” Adrian asks, and Dominic’s eyes widen slightly, not even so much at the words themselves, but at the first time Adrian openly admits to reporting back to the Home Secretary.

“Listen, Adrian,” he says once more, “I’m sure we can work things o—”

“No, _sir_ ,” Adrian interrupts, and the way he spits the word ‘sir’ cuts straight into Dominic like a knife. “I’m sorry, but I think we are way past the ‘working things out’ stage.”

Dominic sighs deeply, trying hard to keep his composure as inside, he can feel his whole world crumble into a million tiny pieces. He takes a small step forward, and Adrian’s hand twitches in his pocket, ready to pull the cross back out if he needs to. 

“I know you’re going to report me,” Dominic says dejectedly, meeting Adrian’s eyes, his own once more back to normal now. “But please, Adrian, I haven’t done anything. Just… let me go now.”

Adrian looks back at him for a long moment, a dark, pensive look on his face, before, eventually, he gives Dominic a small, reluctant nod.

“Go,” he says, and without so much as looking back at the man, Dominic bolts from the room.


	32. Slow Descent, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, as always!

Sitting back I only wish  
Today will turn out fine  
And wash away the stain  
The poison in my eyes

\- Feeder, “Descend”

 

Dominic sits behind the steering wheel of his grey Audi, staring, unmoving, as the large, orange-red orb in the sky makes its slow descent through the trees in front of him, basking the whole scene in a warm red glow. 

He has no idea how long he has been sitting here, the anonymous, cold and stale, but nonetheless utterly mesmerising taste of real human blood still lingering on his tongue, the rush of it coursing through his veins, making him feel light-headed, clouding his mind in a thick, impenetrable fog.

A few errant rays of sunlight break through the trees then, hitting him square in the face, and he closes his eyes reflexively. A quiet, bitter laugh escapes his lips as he feels the warmth of the sunlight caressing his face, and his mind supplies him with an old, distant memory.

_He is sitting in the school canteen, alone, as usual, picking listlessly at his food as fragment of a conversation from a group of girls at a nearby table drift over to him._

_“But you wouldn’t be able to, stupid,” one of them says in a tone that, despite not getting a good enough look at her face, Dominic is sure will be accompanied by an eye-roll. “Everyone knows, vampires die when they go out in the daytime.”_

_Her friend sighs. “Vampires aren’t even real, Sarah.”_

_“Of course not,” Sarah replies, even as Dominic grins silent to himself._

If only you knew, Sarah. 

_“But that doesn’t mean that you can just make up whatever you want about them,” Sarah continues importantly. “And one of the things about them is that they can’t go out in sunlight.”_

_“Uh huh,” another girl in the group replies. “So what happens to them if they do?”_

_“Don’t know,” Sarah says, and Dominic chances a quick glance at the table to see her lift her shoulders in a shrug. “Guess they’ll… burst into flame or something.”_

Wrong again, _Dominic wants to go up to her and say._ You’ve got it all wrong.

_But he knows that his father would skin him alive if he did, so, as usual, he just sighs and looks back down at his plate, shoving another couple of soggy chips into his mouth._

As the sun continues its slow journey down beyond the horizon, Dominic feels the warmth shift away from his face, and he cautiously blinks his eyes open, looking out at the trees casting long shadows across the leaf-covered ground.

Somewhere off in the distance, amidst the shadows just out of his sight, there is a heavy green steel door, leading down into a bunker.

A bunker he spent the majority of the last twenty years of his life in, that he has known and explored for at least ten more before that. A bunker that holds unspeakable secrets, secrets so monstrous that the people have to be protected from them at all cost. It used to be his job to guard those secrets.

Now, he is one of them. 

The thought of it sends a cold, nervous shiver down his spine. He can’t get the look on Adrian’s face out of his mind. The disgust and loathing in his eyes, as if the man standing before him was nothing more than an animal, a parasite, vermin to be culled, just like he said that first day Dominic met him at the Archive. 

He swallows thickly as a lump starts to form in his throat, and he feels the traitorous sting of tears forming in his eyes.

This is the end of it, he knows it. Once Alistair finds out what he is, there will be no way of convincing the man to allow him to keep his position. He will try, most certainly. But he is under no illusion that he has even the slimmest chance of success.

The sun finally finishes its descent, the sky in front of him a deep, reddish purple now, and Dominic’s hands act as if on autopilot, starting the ignition, turning the steering wheel and slowly reversing out of his parking spot. His mind is still clouded and slow to catch up, and it takes him almost the entire journey back to his Cardiff flat for him to even so much as realise where he is going. 

Is this the right place to go?

Something tells him that it isn’t, but he is not sure why, so he parks the car and pulls out his keys, looking left and right down the deserted street as sways slightly in place, waiting to regain his balance. Then he unlocks the front door with surprisingly steady fingers, calls the lift and makes it up to the second floor.

Again there is that voice inside him that tells him he is not in the right place, but he quickly shakes his head and ignores it.

Pulling out his keys again, he unlocks the familiar white wooden door, steps through into the doorway, and freezes in place when comes face to face with Natasha, who stares at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“Dominic?” she asks, subtly shifting the baby she is holding in her arms. 

“Tasha?” he asks back, blinking at her. “What are you…” he drifts off, laughs harshly. “Sorry, I got… I didn’t mean…” The faint, rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat echoing around the spacious hallway invades his thoughts then, making him lose track of whatever it was he was trying to say in the first place. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, he notices, and his eyes drift down from her face to her long, slender, exposed neck, tracing the faint line of the thick vein down from just behind her ear and down towards her collarbone. 

“Dominic,” Tasha says, and his eyes snap back up just in time to see her face darken in a frown, and she takes a careful step back from him. “Are you all right?” she asks slowly. “You’re… kinda scaring me a bit.”

“Scaring you?” Dominic asks, frowning back at her. “Why? I mean… I’m not… I…” He has no control over his eyes dropping back down to her neck again, and he is only distantly aware that he is taking a step towards her. “Your skin looks so soft,” he breathes, transfixed on that spot at the junction between shoulder and neck. How much he would like to just—

“Dominic, what’s going on?” she asks, more forcefully this time, and he looks up to see her backing away against the wall, eyes widening. Adie makes a little noise in her arms then, and she shifts him again so he lies upright against her shoulder and quietly shushes him, never taking her eyes off Dominic. 

“I…” Dominic starts, then drifts off again, the fog in his brain thickening and making it difficult to think. “I’m not sure,” he admits, swallowing down the saliva building up in his mouth. “I wasn’t really thinking where I was going, and I just ended up here. I guess… perhaps I just wanted to see how you were. I haven’t seen you for a little while, so…” He shrugs helplessly, his words slurring ever so slightly now that he tries to string more than two or three of them together at once, and Tasha’s frown deepens.

“Fucking hell, Dominic,” she says in a deadly quiet voice. “You haven’t, have you? You told me you wouldn’t.”

He can’t stop the quick, cynical laugh that bursts out of him. “Yes, well. Things change.”

She doesn’t say anything more, but looks at him with an expression of such heartbreaking disappointment that he finds it impossible to hold her gaze, and his eyes drop to the floor in front of him. Still, out of the corner of his eye, he can see her shaking her head. 

“Wait here,” she bites out through gritted teeth. “I’ll put Adie to bed, and then I’ll be back. Don’t move from this spot, all right?”

He nods silently, his gaze once again fixing on the crook of her neck as she turns away, and he watches, standing completely still, as she walks off and disappears into what used to be his study in a different life. He is not _hungry_ , exactly, which is an almost novelty feeling in itself. He has felt the hunger to some degree or another almost constantly since his recruitment, and even Hal’s vampire blood has rarely been enough to completely eliminate it.

No, what he feels in this moment is a never before felt desire to taste, to own, to drain, to… no, he is not going there. He can’t, not with her. 

“Dominic!” 

The sound of her voice echoes around the spacious hallway, and his eyes snap up to find her once again standing right in front of him, long pale neck on display, so close… He lets out a needy little moan before he has the faintest chance to stop it, and the expression on her face turns nothing short of livid. 

“Come with me,” she says icily, and he follows her into the kitchen, where she immediately makes her way over to the kettle. “I’m going to make you a nice, strong cup of tea, and then you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on with you,” she mutters, not looking at him as he climbs up onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. 

“I don’t think tea is going to make a blind bit of difference,” he points out with a small shrug. “But I guess I’ll take it if you’re offering.”

Tasha doesn’t reply, doesn’t turn around to him, a quick nod of her head the only acknowledgement of his words. Silence falls over the small kitchen as she continues to prepare the tea, and he watches the tension in her shoulders that he knows she is trying her very best to hide from him. Eventually, she carries the two mugs over to the breakfast bar and wordlessly places one down in front of him before taking a seat across from him.

Then she lets out a deep, frustrated sigh, lifts her eyes to him and says, “What the actual fuck, Dominic?”

He swallows, drops his eyes to his mug, then carefully lifts it to his lips and takes a small sip. The hot liquid flows down his throat, flavourless and dull, and he winces slightly before he puts the mug back down and says, “I did it to protect them, Tasha.”

“Who?” she shoots back immediately, and he sighs.

“My men. Well,” he adds with a bitter chuckle, “ _the_ men. At the Archive.” Her brow furrows slightly at his words, but she doesn’t ask the obvious question, so he continues, “A vampire attacked someone at the Archive. There was... a lot of blood. I could feel myself reacting to it, and—”

“All right, all right, too much information, Dracula,” Tasha cuts in quickly, and despite himself, Dominic shoots her a small smile, which she answers with an eye roll.

Then her expression sobers up and she asks, “You didn’t... actually hurt anyone, did you?”

“Of course not, Tasha,” he replies, shaking his head. 

“And you couldn’t’ve just... run away?” she asks, giving him a curious look.

He sighs. “Perhaps, in hindsight, that would’ve been the better option.”

“Yeah,” Tasha scoffs, and he looks up at her to find that she is not quite meeting his eyes. Instead, she is looking at his mouth, almost as if expecting to find fangs there, or stray drops of blood, or any piece of evidence of what he has just told her.

“I can show you, if you want,” he says, giving her a piercing look.

She looks startled for a moment at having been caught out, and her eyes snap back up to meet his own before she lets out a quiet huff. “No, thanks. That’s pretty much the last thing I want to see.”

He lifts his eyebrows at her. “You were looking for it.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. “It was… kinda the opposite, actually. I was thinking about how much you’re still like you. Like… the you you were before. Even now, even after...” she trails off, shakes her head. 

“So, what, you thought about how you wanted to kiss me?” he blurts out, brow creasing as his foggy brain takes a moment to assess the merits of such an action. It’s not what he would choose to do, under normal circumstances, but then again it might give him an opportunity to—

No. He quickly shakes the thought out of his head, lifts his gaze to her again just in time to see her own eyes widen, and there is a bright red blush creeping into her cheeks. 

“Excuse me, what?” she asks, a strangled quality to her voice, and she stares at him in silence for a long moment before she sighs deeply and adds, “No, you know what, forget it. You’re fucking plastered, is all it is.”

“I…” he starts, trying hard to ignore the hunger flaring up inside at the sight of her brightly coloured cheeks.

“No, really, Dominic, don’t bother,” she says, dropping her eyes away from his face, to his hands still clasping his tea mug on the table, and he watches as all colour drains from her face as quickly as it appeared, and her eyes narrow. “Get out,” she breathes, her face hard as she looks back up at him. “Is that...?”

It takes Dominic’s sluggish brain a moment to fully grasp her meaning, but when he does, he gives her a small, almost apologetic smile and nods. “Yes, Tasha, it is.”

Not too surprisingly, she doesn’t smile back at him, but her expression turns thoughtful again when she asks, “When?”

“Friday,” he replies, and she lets out a quiet huff. 

“Of course.” There is a brief pause, before she bites her lip and asks, “Did you? Or... did he?”

“He did,” Dominic says, unable to keep the smile off his face at the memory.

Tasha nods, taking in that information, still not returning his smile. “So you’re actually going to marry him, huh?”

“It… looks that way, yes,” Dominic says, quietly shaking his head. “It still feels surreal if you put it like that.”

“I know what you mean, believe me,” she says dryly. Then her expression turns thoughtful. “But how is that even going to work?” she asks.

Dominic frowns at her for a moment. “The law was passed in July last year, and is coming into force next month.”

Tasha barks out a surprised laugh. “That wasn’t actually what I meant at all,” she says, shaking her head, “but trust you to keep on top of UK politics.”

He lifts his eyebrows at her. “Of course. It’s important to always stay informed, Tasha,” he says, giving her a wide-eyed look. “Especially in my line of work.”

“Yeah, obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes, and he lets out a quiet chuckle. “No, what I was meaning, Dominic,” she continues, “is that you can’t exactly have a church wedding, can you?”

“Well, Hal could—”

“But you can’t,” she cuts in, “so my point still stands. I mean, hell, I saw you with this,” she says, briefly tugging on the thin silver chain disappearing under her t-shirt, and he smiles at the fact that she is actually wearing it. “I don’t even want to know what you’d be like in a church.”

“I’m not planning on finding out,” Dominic says, suppressing a small shudder at the thought, the sharp pain from Adrian’s cross still echoing through his head. 

“But it’s not like you can just walk into a registry office either, can you? I mean, does Hal even have valid papers?”

“Papers aren’t a problem,” he says quickly. “I can get…” he trails off as his most recent predicament resurfaces in his mind, and he swallows thickly. “I mean, I might still be able to get a passport made for him.”

Tasha frowns. “What do you mean, might still?” she asks slowly. “Did something happen at the Archive?”

“You know it did,” he says quietly, looking down. 

“Yes, but—” A loud cry from the direction of the study – no, the nursery – interrupts her, and she gives him a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, one sec.”

Dominic nods and watches as she gets up and leaves the kitchen, and as soon as she is gone and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat fades away into the distance, his focus once again turns inwards, to the potent human blood coursing through his veins, and he feels an overpowering sense of tiredness take hold of him. 

Hiding an yawn behind his hand, he looks up as Tasha reenters the kitchen a minute later, carrying Adie. 

“You wanna go take a nap?” Tasha asks, eyebrows raised towards him as she walks back over to the table and takes a seat.

Dominic lets the hand fall away from his mouth and gives her a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry, I’m—”

“Drunk, yeah, I know,” Tasha says with a sigh. Then she bites her lip, gestures down towards Adie, and asks, “Do you mind?”

“What?” Dominic asks, frowning for a moment, before her meaning becomes clear, and he shakes his head. “No, not at all. Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Tasha says with a small nod, before, with a few practised motions, she sets Adie down against her left breast, and he starts feeding. 

A long silence follows, in which Tasha watches Adie and Dominic watches both of them, the fog in his mind thickening by his growing tiredness. 

Eventually, Tasha’s eyes drift up to him again, and there is a small crease between her brows when she says, “You said he didn’t smell like a werewolf.”

“Excuse me?” Dominic asks, trying to get his brain back into gear. 

“In the hospital. I asked you if he smelled like a werewolf to you, and you said he didn’t.”

Dominic looks across at the baby boy for a moment, recalling the first time he held him in his arms. “He didn’t,” he says after a moment, giving a small shrug. Then, an important piece of information suddenly surfaces in his mind, and he adds, “But he didn’t smell like a human either.”

“You didn’t mention that before,” Tasha says with a frown, and he shakes his head. 

“I didn’t, because it only now occurred to me. The way you or… the men at the Archive… the way you smell to me, like…” he drifts off shakes his head, but Natasha gives him a piercing look.

“Like?” she prompts, and he averts his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“Like you’re the most delicious thing in the world, like I want nothing more than to… to taste you…” he pauses, takes a deep breath, then looks up at her and quickly says, “I didn’t get any of that from him.”

Tasha’s face darkens at his words, and she doesn’t look directly into his eyes when she replies, “I see.”

Dominic sighs. “Tasha, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m—”

“No, I know that deep down you want to eat me. It’ll be like that for the rest of my life, I’ve kinda made my peace with that.” A small, sad smile forms on her lips then, and she adds, “You know, I never thought about it before, but there will come a time when I’m going to be older than you.”

“Well, technically I’m always going to be older than you, Tasha,” Dominic points out. “Just like Hal is always going to be older than me, because he’s five hundred, and—”

“Yeah, all right, I get the idea,” Tasha says with a small smile. “You ramble a lot when you’re drunk, don’t you?”

“Do I?” he asks, his forehead creasing. 

Tasha lets out a quiet laugh. “Yes. You do.”

Another yawn bursts out of him then, and Tasha rolls her eyes, gaze dropping back down to the baby in her lap, and a moment later she lifts him up and slowly stands from her chair. 

“Back in a sec,” she says once more, before disappearing through the door into the hallway. Dominic looks down at the tea mug still clasped between his hands, and he lifts it to his lips, draining the last remaining tea before putting the mug to one side, and his head is starting to feel too heavy to be held upright. Surely Tasha wouldn’t mind if he went for a quick nap, would she? 

Didn’t she even mention it?

He’s pretty sure she did.

Time to find out.

***

“But what if he’s gonna resent me for what I done to him later?” Tom asks, eyebrows drawn together as he looks across the reception desk at Hal, who gives him a small smile.

“Did you resent McNair for what he did to you?” he asks.

“Well, yeah,” Tom replies, a thoughtful note in his voice. “When I first found out ‘bout it. But I forgave him, like. ‘Cause it weren’t really ‘is fault, what ‘appened, an’ he was still me dad.”

“You see?” Hal replies with another smile and a nod. “And you didn’t really even _do_ anything. Apart from the obvious, of course,” he adds, his smile turning into a grin as he watches a faint blush creep into Tom’s cheeks. “And at least this way we know for sure that he’s definitely y—” He breaks off as soon as he realises his mistake, but it’s too late.

Tom’s eyes narrow as he regards him. “That he’s definitely mine, is that what yer tryin’ to say?”

Hal swallows. “Tom—”

“Hal,” Tom interrupts, his face darkening. “That’s what ya were sayin’, innit.” He lifts eyes to look straight into Hal’s. “Why would ya say somethin’ like that, mate?”

Hal sighs deeply. “Tom, I’m… sorry, I didn’t want to imply anyt—”

“Ya sayin’ that Tasha was seein’ someone else behind me back?” Tom cuts in again, raising his voice, and Hal takes a nervous look around the – thankfully empty – foyer. 

“No, Tom,” he says emphatically, shaking his head. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.” He sends a small smile Tom’s way, but it is only met with narrowed eyes.

“What then, Hal?” Tom barks. “Ya clearly know somethin’ I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein’ kept in the dark like that. What’d she say to ya?”

Hal lets out another sigh. “Really Tom, please just try to forget what I said, it was a mistake—”

Tom’s eyes narrow. “It weren’t you, was it?” he asks, his voice suddenly icily quiet, and Hal’s eyes widen. 

“No, Tom, God, of course not,” he says, quickly, letting out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “I’ve done a lot of awful things in my time but that’s certainly not one of them. And I couldn’t have possibly fathered a child, anyway,” he adds, quietly, almost like an afterthought, and Tom, reluctantly nods.

“Good point,” he says, calmer, and Hal lets out a silent breath of relief, until Tom’s face hardens again and he says, “But ya do know somethin’, an’ I need ya to tell me.”

Hal averts his eyes. “It’s… not for me to tell you, Tom,” he says quietly, then takes a deep breath and continues, “but perhaps you should speak to Natasha. Especially if your intention still is to marry her.”

“Course it is, ya know that, Hal,” Tom says, frowning. 

Hal looks back at him then, giving him a small smile. “That’s good, Tom. Just… remember that whatever she might tell you, doesn’t change who she is as a person.”

Tom gives him a long, hard, scrutinising look, clearly trying to make sense of his words, and Hal hopes against hope that his friend will be as understanding as Natasha deserves him to be.

“Course not,” Tom says finally. “She’s always gonna be Tasha.”

“Exactly,” Hal says, feeling a sharp pang in his chest even as he smiles encouragingly at his friend, and finally, Tom gives him a hesitant smile back. 

“Thanks, mate,” he says, a split-second before Hal’s phone goes off loudly in his pocket, and he quickly pulls it out and glances at the screen, frowning when he sees the caller ID.

“Natasha?” he asks hesitantly as he lifts the phone to his ear. He can feel Tom’s sharp gaze on him and looks up to give him a quizzical look and a small shrug.

“You might want to come over and pick up your fiancé,” Natasha says, and Hal’s eyebrows shoot up.

“He’s with you?”

“Oh yes,” Natasha confirms in a matter-of-fact voice. “And he’s currently fast asleep at the kitchen table. Which is probably just as well since he was completely off his head when he first arrived.”

Hal frowns. “He was _drunk_?”

“Well, I bloody well hope he was,” Natasha says with a small huff, “given the way he basically propositioned me. Twice.”

“He what?” Hal asks, almost choking on a bit of saliva in his throat. 

“You heard me,” Natasha says. “Never mind the way he kept looking at me like I was on the dinner menu.”

Hal can’t help the short, barking laugh that burst out of him, and he can hear Natasha sigh on the other end. 

“Yeah, trust you to think this is all hilarious.”

Hal catches his breath and sobers up as a much more troubling thought surfaces in his mind. “But how could he be drunk?” he asks quietly, almost more to himself than her.

“Who’s drunk?” Tom’s voice pipes up next to him then, and he looks up to see his friend watching him carefully. “Dominic?”

Hal nods, his brow creasing as his thoughts whirl wildly in his head, trying to make sense of it all. Dominic had some of his blood this morning before they left for the Archive, but since Hal himself has had nothing but flasks for the last month, it doesn’t tend to have much of an effect on him anymore, unless he… drinks excessively. Which he definitely didn’t do this morning, and he was fine when Hal left him around lunchtime. 

“He said he did it to keep his men safe,” Natasha explains. “Apparently something happened at the Archive, and he… got triggered by some blood or something.”

Hal feels a sharp pang of fear in his chest. “Did he attack someone?”

“No,” Natasha says quickly. “He must’ve got it from… you know…”

“The store room,” Hal says, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he hears Dominic’s determined voice in his head. _There is no way in hell I would ever set foot in that room, Hal. Not even for you._ “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

“Wha’?” Tom asks, and Hal looks up at him and quickly shakes his head.

“And he’s asleep now?” Hal continues, speaking into the phone again even as he keeps his eyes on Tom.

“Yep, like a baby,” Natasha says, before adding, “Well, any baby other than mine on a full moon.”

Hal feels a small smile tugging at his lips. “How’s he doing, anyway?”

“He’s all right, Hal, but really I didn’t call to have a chat about the joys of motherhood.”

Hal sighs. “All right,” he says, lifting himself out of his chair. “I’m on my way.”

***

Hal sees Dominic’s car parked outside the building as soon as he turns into the road, and he parks the blue Mercedes next to it and all but sprints across the pavement to the door. Natasha presses the door buzzer as soon as he rings the bell, and a minute later he finds himself on the second floor landing, and the door swings open to reveal a very tired and slightly disgruntled looking Natasha.

He gives her a small smile, and she sighs. 

“He said he was never gonna do it, Hal,” she says quietly, leaning against the doorframe. “He promised me he wouldn’t, that he would stay strong and fight it.”

Hal’s brow furrows as he watches her while she speaks, and suddenly she looks smaller, younger than he has ever seen her. It serves as a harsh reminder of what role Dominic has been playing in her life up until this point.

“It’s hard,” he says with another small smile in her direction. “A lot of vampires have tried, none, as far as I know, have succeeded.”

Natasha swallows visibly. “But he should never have been a vampire in the first place.”

Hal lets out a harsh laugh. “And here I was, thinking you loved him. Would you really rather he was dead?”

She stares at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, before she averts her eyes, shakes her head and whispers, “No, of course not.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hal says with a nod, and she sighs and takes a step back from the door. 

“Come in,” she says wearily, and Hal steps over the threshold into the spacious hallway. “He’s in the kitchen,” Natasha continues, gesturing to the familiar door.

Hal stops in the doorway and, for a moment, lets his eyes linger on the sleeping figure of Dominic at the kitchen island, head cushioned on folded forearms, calm, even breaths escaping his slightly parted lips. _He looks so beautiful like this,_ Hal thinks, unable to keep the smile off his face as he takes a few steps into the kitchen and reaches out a hand, almost reluctant to wake him up.

Stretching out his fingers to lightly touch his shoulder, he quietly says, “Dominic.” Dominic doesn’t stir, and there is no sign that he is aware of Hal’s presence at all, so Hal tries again, a little bit louder, “Dominic.”

Finally, Dominic’s brow creases ever so slightly, and he lets out a quiet sigh. 

“Hey, Blondie,” Hal continues, carding his hand through the short hairs at the back of Dominic’s head. “You’ve got to wake up now, okay? We’re going to get you home.”

“Mmmh,” Dominic says, without moving or opening his eyes. “Feels nice.”

Hal lets out a quiet chuckle. “And you can have plenty more of that once we get home, but you’ve got to come with me now, all right?”

“Mmmh,” Dominic says again, but makes no move whatsoever to get up.

“He’s absolutely hammered, isn’t he?” Natasha speaks up behind him, and Hal turns around to her with a small frown on his face. 

“It’s his first time drinking human blood, he will be quite… affected by it.”

Natasha lets out a harsh chuckle. “Yeah. Just… take him away, Hal, please. I… this is all… I don’t want to have to think about any of this anymore for a while, if that’s okay.”

“Understood,” Hal says with a nod, before turning back to Dominic and lightly squeezing his shoulder. “You really have to wake up now, beautiful. Or would you rather I carried you to the car?”

“Mmmh,” Dominic says once more, still not opening his eyes, and Hal feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Fair enough,” he says, and in one swift movement, scoops Dominic up from the barstool he is sitting on, his head immediately falling into the crook of Hal’s neck. 

“Mmh, you smell good,” Dominic mumbles against his skin, and Hal has to suppress a shiver at the feeling.

“I bet I do, the state that you’re in,” he says quietly, aware of Natasha’s piercing eyes on him. He looks up at her, raising his eyebrows, and she scoffs.

“I don’t think I want to know,” she says, and he chuckles.

“Probably not,” he says, and starts to carry Dominic towards the front door, aware of her eyes on them the whole way. His earlier conversation with Tom resurfaces in his mind, then, and he turns around to her with a small frown. “Tom might come and ask you some questions about… about London,” he says carefully.

Her face darkens. “What have you told him?”

“Nothing, just…” he drifts off, sighs. “I just wanted to warn you that he might have some questions. Just… be honest with him, Tasha. He’s not going to think any less of you for it.”

“Tom isn’t Dominic,” she says quietly, her eyes fixed on the still half-asleep form of Dominic in his arms before they flick back up to him. “And I’m not you.”

Hal sighs. “I know that, Tasha,” he says. “But I also know that he loves you very much. You’ll be fine, trust me.”

“Thanks,” she says, the tiniest of smiles appearing on her lips, and he briefly smiles back at her before he turns back down the long hallway towards the door. He is just about to step over the threshold when Natasha calls, “Hal.” He stops in his tracks and turns around, surprised to find her smiling devilishly at him. “You practising for the wedding night?” she asks.

He returns her smile and lets out a quick laugh, before he sobers up and says, “I don’t think _I’ll_ be carrying _him._ ”

Then he turns back around and steps across the threshold, leaving Natasha to stare after him with an astonished expression on her face.


	33. Slow Descent, Part II

What do you recommend?  
I feel my life descending  
I'm falling out of reach  
Catch me as I bleed (again)

\- Feeder, “Descend”

 

Dominic wakes up to an almighty shiver racking through his body, and he can feel goosebumps rising on sweat-damp skin. As much as he tries to, he can’t stop his limbs from shaking wildly, and there is a white-hot flame coursing through his insides. He lets out a pained groan, folding his shaking arms closer around his body.

“Shh,” a quiet voice sounds from somewhere to his left, and he turns towards that voice, a source of comfort, and a cool hand comes to lie across his forehead, brushing away locks of damp hair. “You’re burning up,” the voice says, gentle fingers now running down the side of his face.

“’S inside of me,” he mumbles, his tongue barely obeying him. “Hurts.”

“I know,” the voice says, fingers slowly running through his hair now. He knows that voice, he knows it, but his brain seems unable to string two coherent thoughts together. “It will ease, with time. You’ll just have to ride this one out.”

Dominic tries to form a reply, but all that comes out past his lips is another agonised groan, and his teeth start chattering in his mouth, fangs poking into the inside of his bottom lip, drawing a small amount of blood. 

“Oh,” he says, licking the blood away from his lip, and before he even knows it, his own wrist is in his mouth and he bites down, hard, until he feels a steady flow of blood entering his mouth. But the blood tastes bland, weak, diluted, _wrong_ , and he lets out a quiet, disappointed whimper as he lets his wrist fall away from his mouth, nonetheless lapping up the last drop of blood from his lips.

“I’m sorry,” the voice says. “That’s never going to be the same now I’m afraid.”

 _Hal,_ his brain finally supplies him. _That’s Hal’s voice._

“Hal,” he rasps, reaching out and grabbing hold of Hal’s free hand, even as the other one continues to stroke his sweat-damp hair. 

“I’m here,” Hal says. “I’m sorry, Dominic. You’re going through withdrawal, and I know how bad it is, I’ve been there many times myself.”

“Withdrawal?” Dominic asks, frowning. His eyes flutter open then, and he takes in the room, bathed in the cold, dim blue of early morning twilight. Hal is perching on the bed next to him, fully dressed despite the early hour, looking down at him with a serious expression on his face. 

“Yes,” Hal says. “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

Dominic nods wordlessly, the taste of blood from the flask all but a distant memory to him now. He blinks up at Hal and asks, “What time is it?”

“About five thirty, I think,” Hal says matter-of-factly. “You’ve been sleeping on and off for about twelve hours.”

Another violent shiver shakes his body then, and he lets out a ragged sigh. “Is it always like this?” he asks, not feeling particularly eloquent just yet, but Hal seems to get his meaning all the same.

“No, it’s not,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess your body must have gone into a state of overload after being denied blood for so long. Most new vampires don’t make it a day, never mind two months without feeding.”

“But I have been feeding,” Dominic says, frowning up at Hal, who shakes his head once more.

“Not properly. You have been feeding from me, but it’s not the same. That’s why I said you’d be able to just go back to the way you were before, whereas now…” he drifts off, but Dominic knows what he was going to say all the same.

He swallows hard, looks straight into Hal’s eyes and says, “Get me a flask.”

“But Dominic—”

“Please, Hal,” he says, pushing himself up on shaking arms into a sitting position, eyes piercing into Hal’s, who holds his gaze for a long moment, then gives him a small nod.

“If you’re sure.”

“Please,” Dominic repeats, and Hal nods once more before getting up and crossing the room to the door. 

Dominic runs a trembling hand through his wet hair while he waits, letting out a quiet, breathless chuckle. So this is what he has been reduced to. One fifty millilitre flask of blood, and he is a sweating, shaking mess, begging for his next fix. This is going to be his life now. 

The door opens again, and his head whips around, eyes fixing immediately of the small flask in Hal’s hand as he walks towards him. He has to do everything he can not to snatch the flask out of Hal’s hand as soon as he reaches the bed, and balls his hands into tight fists in a semblance of control as he waits for Hal to hold it out to him. 

“I’m not sure what we’re going to do about these,” Hal says pensively, a small frown on his face, either unaware or unwilling to acknowledge the way Dominic’s black eyes are fixed on the small flask in his hand. 

“Don’t worry about it, I can get my own,” Dominic rasps, no longer able to resist the urge to reach out a trembling hand, and Hal finally hands over the flask.

He opens it with clumsy fingers, some of the blood spilling onto his chest and the duvet, but he couldn’t care less right now. He lifts the flask to his mouth and takes a deep, greedy gulp, then another, and another. The effect of it is immediate, and he can feel the white-hot pain in his gut subside, the trembling in his limbs ease, and he drinks until the last drop hits his tongue, and he lowers his hand with a small, disappointed sigh. 

Opening his eyes, he sees Hal watching him with a furrowed brow. Now that the fog has somewhat lifted from his brain, he can see the deep, dark circles under Hal’s eyes that speak of a long, sleepless night, and he swallows and looks down.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Hal asks, and he lets out a small, mirthless laugh.

“For putting you through this?” he says, more a question than a statement. “For being too weak to resist?”

Hal quickly shakes his head. “You’re not weak. This… this isn’t weakness, Dominic. It’s your nature.”

Dominic huffs out another laugh. “Yes, so I hear again and again. But this isn’t what I signed up for. This…” he drifts off, sighs deeply, before he looks back up at Hal and says, “They know, Hal.”

Hal’s eyes widen fractionally. “What do you mean? Who knows?”

“Adrian,” Dominic says, looking down at the blood-stained bedclothes. “He… was in the bathroom, and… he found out. And by now I’m pretty sure the whole Archive knows. Never mind…” he drifts off with a resigned shake of his head.

“Never mind?” Hal prompts, and Dominic’s eyes dart back up, piercing straight into him.

“Never mind Alistair,” he says.

***

The summons comes in the form of an email, about ten thirty in the morning. Dominic sits at the dining table, his laptop open in front of him, big eyes reading over the message again and again. It isn’t that he hasn’t been expecting it, but now that it is actually there in front of him, his brain seems to have a difficult time accepting the reality of it.

The email, Dominic noticed with a pang, is not even from Alistair himself, but from his assistant, Kate Whitfield. Clearly just another way of making sure he knows his place, now that the big secret is out, Dominic thinks bitterly as his eyes once again roam across the letters on his screen.

_Dear Mr Rook,_

_The Home Secretary has asked me to invite to for an informal meeting at his office in London to discuss the validity of the concerns raised by Detective Constable Adrian O’Brien regarding yourself and the state of your health._

_Should these allegations be confirmed, the Home Secretary would like you to know that he is very concerned about your continued ability to carry out your current role. However, owing to your long, close and amiable working relationship, Mr Frith would be willing to enter into a frank discussion of the subject in order to find a workable solution._

_He would therefore like to see you in his office on Thursday 20 February at 11am. Please do make sure you arrive on time._

_Kind regards,_  
_Kate_

_Kate Whitfield_  
_Private Office of The Home Secretary_  
_Assistant to The Rt Hon. Alistair Frith FRSL, MP_

Dominic’s nostrils flare as he gets to the bottom of the email, for what must be the fifth or sixth time since its initial arrival.

“You all right, Blondie?” Alex’s voice drifts over from the other side of the room, and he looks up to see her hovering somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room, giving him an apprehensive look. He has been getting that look a lot since getting up this morning, both from Hal and from Alex, never mind the concerned text message from Natasha he received about half an hour ago, that he still hasn’t replied to because the little he does remember from his visit to her flat yesterday has him wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

“I’m fine, thank you, Alex,” he says with a thin smile.

“Liar,” Alex replies, smiling back at him as she takes a seat across from him at the table. “What’s the news?” she asks, nodding in the direction of his laptop.

He sighs. “The Home Secretary wants to meet with me.”

Alex gives him a small, sympathetic smile. “Well, I guess that’s not too surprising,” she says, and Dominic huffs quietly and shakes his head.

“Not exactly, no.”

“When?” Alex asks.

“Thursday,” he replies, eyes once again scanning across his screen, almost as if he has to reassure himself of the facts even after reading through it enough times to basically having memorised the whole thing. His eyes stop on the word ‘London’ for a long moment, and his stomach gives a little lurch at the mere thought of going back to the capital, of making his way through the busy streets and around the Home Office building, never mind facing Alistair himself, and his dark thoughts from a few weeks ago resurface, unbidden, in his mind. “I’m not sure if I can make it,” he voices his thoughts before he can stop himself, and Alex gives him a quizzical look.

“What do you mean?”

“I… I’m not sure I can trust myself to…” he drifts off, gives her a small smile and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

Alex looks at him intently. “You’re afraid you might hurt someone?”

He swallows, averts his eyes and gives her a small, jerky nod. 

Alex hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it because of the… the blood?”

“Partly,” he says. “But partly I’m just scared what I might do if he… if he tells me…” he trails off once more, taking a shaky breath. 

“I could come with you,” Alex suggests, and his eyes dart up to meet hers, a frown building on his face. She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “What? It makes sense. I’ll go with you, no one will know that I’m even there. And if you do find yourself losing control for whatever reason, I’ll just rent-a-ghost you out of there.”

He can’t help the brief grimace that passes over his face at the thought of rent-a-ghosting, before his head snaps up when he hears Hal’s voice.

“Sounds like an excellent plan to me,” Hal says, giving Dominic a significant look as he walks towards the table, and Dominic sighs. 

“I suppose,” he admits grudgingly.

“Cool, that’s decided then,” Alex says in a voice that is entirely too cheerful for the occasion, and Dominic sighs and nods. 

“So it is.”

***

And so, come Thursday, Dominic finds himself on a tedious four hour car journey with an overly chatty ghost, having repeatedly turned down her offer of just rent-a-ghosting him to London. If he never has to experience that dizzying feeling of complete, sudden spatial displacement again, it will be too soon.

By the time the grey Audi pulls up in the Home Office car park, Dominic feels a slight headache coming on from her incessant chatting, but at the same time he is grateful to her for distracting him from what otherwise could have been a very long and anxiety-provoking journey.

“So this is the Home Office, huh?” Alex asks, looking up at the imposing building towering before them. 

“Yes, Alex, this is it,” Dominic confirms, casting nervous glances back and forth at the people passing him by, completely unaware of the danger he poses, or indeed the companion he has standing right beside him. 

“How are you feeling?” Alex asks, obviously picking up on his nerves as they slowly make their way to the doors. 

“I’m fine, Alex,” he says, giving her a small smile, even as the hunger flares up inside of him despite the flask he drank before setting out this morning, because the prospect of a real, live human is just so much more appealing than the stale old blood from the flasks ever could be. 

“Well in that case,” Alex says, as they come to a halt in front of the large glass doors. “Shall we?”

They make their way inside, and Dominic leads her across to the lift and up to the fourth floor. The wide, empty corridor is just as imposing as it ever has been, and Dominic feels a lump rising into his throat as he takes a seat on the bench outside the Home Secretary’s office, waiting to be admitted. 

People walk back and forth in front of him, and he can’t shake the feeling that some of them are giving him curious and at times downright intimidated glances. 

“It’s like they know,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, but Alex, of course, picks up on it straight away.

“Who knows?” she asks.

He looks up, eyes fixed on a woman in a blue top and a dark grey skirt walking past, the sound of her heels muffled by the deep red carpet. 

“These people,” he whispers, gaze following the woman as she disappears into one of the offices further down the corridor.

“I think you’re just being paranoid,” Alex says, frowning at him. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have made it public knowledge that there’s a vampire in the building. I mean, most of these people don’t even know vampires exist, right?”

Dominic swallows and nods. “You’re right. I’m just—”

“Mr Rook?” a female voice sounds from the direction of the large, wooden door, and he looks up to lay eyes on who he can only assume is Kate Whitfield. She is a tall, slim woman in her early to mid-thirties, long blonde hair done up in a tight bun and wearing a knee-length grey pencil dress. At seeing Dominic look up at her, she gives him a somewhat forced looking smile and says, “The Home Secretary will see you now.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says, surprised to find his voice breaking, and he quickly clears his throat as he stands up and walks across the wide corridor towards her. He can feel Alex’s presence closely behind him, reassuring him, and he takes a deep breath and enters the office.

The door falls shut behind him, but he doesn’t turn around, his gaze instead fixed on Alistair, sitting behind his desk, not the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he watches Dominic take a few steps into the spacious office. 

“Dominic,” he says, his voice completely emotionless, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, Alistair,” Dominic says, coming to a halt a good two feet away from the desk, “but I think I’d rather stand.”

“By all means,” Alistair says evenly, but Dominic can see his face darken ever so slightly. 

A long moment of silence follows, only interrupted by Alex’s sudden exclamation of “Bloody hell, look at this view!”

Dominic tries and fails to suppress a small chuckle, and Alistair frowns, but chooses not to comment, and instead says, “I take it you know why I asked you to meet with me today, Dominic.”

“Of course I do,” Dominic says, trying to keep his calm as the Home Secretary’s sharp eyes bore into him. 

“Good heavens, Dominic!” Alistair suddenly bursts out, and Dominic’s eyes widen. “What were you thinking, man, keeping that kind of information hidden not only from your work colleagues, but from me! Do you have any appreciation for the danger you may have posed to the men working with you, not to mention to the general public? I can’t believe—”

“There was no danger, Alistair,” Dominic bites out, nostrils flaring. “Do you honestly believe that I would have returned to work if I felt that there was even the slightest chance that something untoward could have happened? Do you think I didn’t carefully assess the situation prior to my return, and decide that it was safe to do so?”

“I can’t possibly know that, Dominic,” Alistair says, looking him up and down in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable. “Let me ask you a question. How do you expect me to trust anything you say, or anything you have said to me in the last two months, knowing what I know now? How can I possibly assume that you are even still _yourself_ , Dominic? That this… affliction… hasn’t changed you from the inside out, made you into a different man altogether?”

Dominic feels a surge of anger flare up inside of him, and he takes a deep, calming breath, before saying, “That’s not how it works, Alistair, and if you ever actually listened to anything I told you—”

“What I remember you telling me, Dominic, is that these… creatures… are nothing like their human counterparts anymore, that they are monsters, far removed from any pre-existing morals or feelings, and that they are dangerous and in need of regulation and careful surveillance. Is that not what you were trying to drill into my head with those countless emails you sent, Dominic? Or do you even remember sending those at all, seeing as you’re… you’re…”

“What?” Dominic asks, distractedly running his tongue over his itching gums. “What am I, Alistair? Because I haven’t yet heard you say it.”

“Dominic, calm down,” Alex says somewhere to his right, and he shoots her an irritated glance before his eyes fix on Alistair again, just in time to see his face contort in an ugly grimace.

“A vampire,” he spits. “An abomination. A disgusting, unnatural animal. That’s what I think you are, Dominic, you and your _boyfriend_.”

“Leave Hal out of this,” Dominic says in an icy voice, balling his hands into fists, fingernails digging painfully into his palms as he feels his self-control slowly slipping.

“Dominic,” Alex says again, in a warning tone.

“I’m fine,” he mutters under his breath, just as he sees something unnameable flash in Alistair’s eyes.

“You know I can’t do that, Dominic,” he says, his voice almost infuriatingly calm all of a sudden. “Indeed, the matter of SJ031 is one that I wanted to discuss with you today. You see, since receiving that phone call from Detective O’Brien, I have taken the liberty to go back over the reports you sent me, about those two deaths you investigated in Barry. Now, Dominic, correct me if I’m wrong, but at the time you wrote those reports, you were already infected with this… condition, were you not?”

Dominic lets out a sharp breath through his nostrils. “I don’t see how that is relevant to—”

“Were you or were you not already a vampire when you sent me those reports, Dominic?” Alistair bellows, standing from his chair with his hands leaning heavily on the surface of the desk, sharp eyes fixed on Dominic.

Dominic’s knuckles are going white from the force of his clenched fists, and he can feel Alex’s hand lightly touching his shoulder. “Keep it together, Dominic, you’re doing great,” she says, and he can’t help but laugh hollowly.

“Yes, I was,” he bites out through clenched teeth. 

Alistair holds his gaze for a moment longer, before he sits back down again, takes a deep breath and says, “Well, I’m sorry, Dominic, but in that case I have no choice but to disregard your reports, and your entire investigation. You were clearly biased in favour of the perpetrator. Heavens, for all I know, you were complicit—”

“How dare you,” Dominic says, voice shaking in a desperate attempt to stay calm, but despite his best efforts, he can feel his fangs break through, poking almost reassuringly against his tongue. 

“No, Dominic,” Alistair replies. “How dare _you_ have the audacity to lie so blatantly in not one, but two official government reports, trying to cover up that loathsome creature’s vile crimes. I should have you arrested right here and now. Lucky for you, I know that locking up a vampire in a regular prison will cause no end of issues, so I will leave you to the mercy of the DoDD, to deal with as they see fit. SJ031, however… after everything he has done in his past, to be so completely remorseless and continue in his wicked ways even now, I’m afraid I won’t have a choice but to call for his immediate recapture and exec—”

“Oh no you don’t,” Dominic snarls, the office exploding in bright light in front of him as his eyes switch to black, and before he even fully comprehends what he is doing, he has sprinted forward, leapt across the heavy wooden desk, and his mouth is less than an inch away from Alistair’s stiff white shirt collar, one hand grabbing onto the man’s dark blue silk tie.

“Dominic,” he can hear the man croak, voice strangled by his iron hold, and he leans in, bares his fangs, and the very tips are making contact with the rough skin of Alistair’s neck, when suddenly, he can feel himself being grabbed from behind, and he feels the unmistakable sensation of the world disintegrating around him, only to reappear, slightly changed, a split-second later, and he hits the deep red carpet with a muffled _thud_. 

He jumps back up to his feet immediately, takes a quick look around to get his bearings, realises he is just outside the Home Secretary’s office and is already halfway across the corridor again when he feels strong hands grabbing both of his arms, pulling him back.

“Calm the hell down, Dominic, Jesus,” Alex says, and he growls as he struggles against her.

“Let me go, Alex!” he snarls. “Didn’t you hear what he is going to do to Hal? I have to stop him, I have to—”

“You’re not exactly going to help matters by killing the Home Secretary!” she shouts back at him. “Just stop being a fucking animal for just one second and start using your goddamn brain!”

Dominic stops in his tracks, her words stirring something inside of him, something he doesn’t have a name for at first, but that slowly claws its way to the surface and makes him relax his tense muscles, makes him take a deep breath, then another, and another, and that finally makes him blink his eyes and reopen them a clear blue.

“Fine,” he says quietly, turning around and facing Alex, who gives him an apprehensive look.

“You all right?” she asks, and he lets out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Am I all right? He’s going to kill Hal, Alex. We have to do something.” 

Alex takes a deep breath. “Yes, we do, but you have to calm down, okay? You can’t go leaping across that desk again, or it won’t just be Hal that he’s going to have executed.”

She gives him a meaningful look, and he holds it for a long moment, before he finally nods and says, “All right. I’ll be calm. But I have to go back in there, now.”

“Okay,” Alex says with a nod. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Dominic crosses the corridor again, slower, calmer this time, and reaches out a steady hand to open the door. Alistair is still sitting behind his desk, but his head whips up at the sound of the door opening, and his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as they fall on Dominic, slowly walking towards him.

“How,” he starts, his voice still slightly strangled from his earlier attack, and he clears his throat and tries again, “How did you do that?” His eyes dart back and forth between the desk and the door. “You were here a moment ago, trying to kill me, and then… and now you’re walking through the door like nothing is amiss at all. What kind of supernatural nonsense is this, Dominic?”

Dominic gives him a chilling smile, coming to a halt once more a couple of feet away from the desk. “A ghost,” he says, and Alistair gives him a wary look.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got a ghost with me, Alistair,” he explains, his voice deadly calm. “A Type 1. I’m sure you are familiar with the concept.”

Alistair swallows, leaning as far back in his chair as he possibly can. As if that would make any difference, Dominic thinks distractedly, if he actually decided to attack again.

“I do understand what a ghost is, Dominic,” he says, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “What I don’t understand is how that’s got anything to do with your disappearing act just now.”

“Fucking hell, he really is a bit thick, isn’t he?” Alex says, and Dominic barks out a laugh. 

“Thick, maybe, but also dangerous,” he says, not even trying to hide his words, and Alistair frowns.

“What the blazes is going on here, Dominic?” he asks. “And just for the record, you attack me again, and I will have you staked on sight.”

“Case in point,” Dominic says casually to Alex, who sighs and nods. Turning back towards Alistair, he says, “Ghosts are able to teleport, Alistair. They can disappear in one place and reappear instantly in another. I brought my friend with me to…” he pauses, searches for a moment for the right words, “to teleport me away in case I… do something regrettable.”

“Like attacking me, you mean,” Alistair says, nodding and giving him a sharp look. “Regrettable indeed, Dominic.”

Dominic holds his gaze for a moment, before glancing down at the floor in front of his feet, and saying, “I apologise for my outburst, Alistair.”

Alistair lets out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “You seriously walk in here and think you can just _apologise_ for almost ripping my throat out, Dominic? Are you really deluded enough to think that I will let you get away with this?”

“I think that you are scared for your life right now, Alistair,” Dominic says coolly. “And I think that if I agree to just walk back out of that door, and promise to not cause you any trouble ever again, that you will let me go, because that’s the kind of coward that I know you are. Because believe me, if you harm either myself or Hal, there are others that will be more than capable to avenge us in ways that you don’t even think possible right now. Because there is a whole world of supernatural creatures out there, Alistair, that you have never taken the least bit of trouble to truly understand.” He pauses, eyes piercing straight into Alistair’s and a grim smile spreads on his lips at the naked fear he can see there. “I bet you wish you had listened to me now.”

“This… this is blackmail,” Alistair gasps, shaking his head at him. “You’re trying to blackmail and intimidate me, Dominic, but let me tell you, you won’t get away with this. I was trying to be lenient with you before, as a show of good faith for the long time we have been working together, but if you continue to threaten me in that way, I’m afraid you’ll give me no choice but to get you both captured. And don’t think that Detective O’Brien will be as… accommodating as you used to be with your… ‘tenants’.”

“Somehow I don’t think he’s bluffing, Dominic,” Alex says next to him, and he reluctantly nods.

“You’re right.”

“Am I?” Alistair asks, raising his eyebrows at him. “Now that is a change of tune. Perhaps I was wrong, and you are still able to be reasoned with, after all.”

Dominic nods. “Perhaps I am, Alistair,” he says, smiling his icy smile again, “but perhaps I’m just a deranged monster trying to get its way with you. I guess you’ll never really know. Now, my offer to you is this. I resign from my post with immediate effect—”

“You really think I’ll give you the opportunity to _resign_?” Alistair scoffs. “You’re fired, Dominic, let there be no question about that.”

Dominic sighs and nods again. “Fine, have it your way,” he says, even as Alistair’s words stab a hole into his chest. “But regardless of that, you will let me and Hal go, and no harm is to come to either of us, you understand me?”

Alistair gives him a long, hard look, before he says, “I will give you one chance, Dominic. Both of you. One chance to show me that you can be trusted, and that SJ031 really has been redeemed. But if I hear of either one of you as much as putting one foot out of line, you are done for, you hear me?”

There is a long silence in the room following Alistair’s words, and Dominic takes the opportunity to carefully contemplate the counter-offer. It’s the best he is going to get, he knows that. Slowly, he nods his head, swallows, and says, “I agree to your conditions.”

“Good,” Alistair says, and Dominic is sickened to see a smug smile spreading on his lips. “I believe that is all, then, Dominic. You are dismissed.”

***

Dominic parks his car in its usual spot and slowly, reluctantly walks the remaining short distance to the bunker. As soon as the door comes into view, it swings open before him, and Mike stands there, tall and lanky as ever, giving him a look that veers somewhere between wary and apologetic.

“Sir,” Mike says, his voice betraying no emotion.

“Mike,” he replies with a small incline of his head, taking a step towards him. His stomach lurches uncomfortably as he sees the man flinch away from him.

“I was instructed to take you to your desk to collect your belongings, sir,” Mike says, never taking his eyes off Dominic as he slowly backs into the bleak concrete corridor, and Dominic sighs and follows him inside.

“I understand your reasoning, Mike, but I don’t need a babysitter,” he says, raising his eyebrows at Mike, who averts his eyes.

“I’m afraid it’s not up to me, sir,” he says.

“No, I suppose not,” Dominic mumbles as he follows Mike down the corridor, before, in a louder voice, he asks, “Who calls the shots now, then?”

“Mr O’Brien, sir,” Mike says, and Dominic lets out a mirthless laugh.

“Of course.”

They round a corner, walking past the Type 3 block, and Dominic’s brow furrows as his eyes fall on the heavy door.

“How are the kids holding up?” he asks. At first, Mike doesn’t respond at all. “Mike?” he prompts, and the man turns around to him, giving him a pained look. 

“I’m not allowed to discuss these matters with you, sir,” he says quietly. “Confidentiality.”

Dominic stares at him for a long moment, the hole in his chest growing larger with every second. Eventually, he nods and says, “Fair enough.”

They continue down the corridor in silence, until they reach the room with the number ‘111’ painted on it, and Mike opens the door and beckons him through. 

“After you, sir,” he says, and Dominic steps through into the large archive room that used to be his office, slowly walking along the packed shelves until he reaches his desk. “I can give you a moment to collect your personal belongings, sir,” Mike says behind him, and he turns around to him, giving him a small smile. 

“Thank you, Mike,” he says, watching as the man turns away and walks back along the aisle, feigning interest in one of the boxes on the shelves in order to give him some privacy.

Dominic sighs and turns back to his desk, making quick work of opening drawers and pulling out objects, his notebook, his pen, the picture of Hal that has been following him ever since he first laid eyes on it in his file more than a year ago. A spare shirt. A calculator. A spare phone charger. 

Eventually, he clears his throat loudly, and Mike turns back around to him, giving him a questioning look. “Finished, sir?” he asks, and Dominic nods wordlessly. “All right,” Mike says, nodding towards the door. “If you’ll follow me, please, sir. I just need to take some details from you, for your file.”

“I already have a file,” Dominic blurts out, and Mike frowns.

“Come again, sir?”

Dominic swallows. “I’ve… already started a file, Mike. I’ll be happy to share it with you, now that… well. It has all the information you will be looking for.”

Mike stares at him for a long moment. “That… would be very helpful, thank you, sir.”

Dominic nods. “#OC925,” he says. “If you give me temporary access to the system, I will lift the password protection, and you can do with it as you please. Just…” he drifts off, looks down.

“Just what, sir?” Mike asks, and he briefly lifts his eyes to him and gives him a small smile.

“I would… very much like to have a copy of the file, as it is now, if that’s not too much trouble.”

Mike looks uncertain for a moment, obviously mulling his request over in his mind, before he shrugs and says, “It’s yours, sir. I don’t see the harm in you having a copy of it.”

“Thank you,” he says, sitting down at the desk and flipping over the laptop. Mike leans in over his shoulder to log him on, before he quickly takes a few steps back, bringing some distance between. Dominic searches through the database until he locates his personal file, and he removes the secure password. “There you go,” he says, turning his head to look at Mike, who is watching him somewhat warily from a distance. Sighing, he says, “I’m not going to hurt you, Mike.”

“I know, sir,” Mike says instantly, and it brings the tiniest of smiles to Dominic’s face. “But I have been instructed to be careful.”

The smile falls away from his lips, and he repeats, “I’m not going to hurt you.” Mike nods a little bit too quickly and too readily, he thinks, but he doesn’t comment. Instead, he asks, “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No, sir,” Mike says, shaking his head, and Dominic slowly gets up from his desk, turning to face the younger man. 

“In that case, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour. Well, two favours, really,” he says, giving Mike an imploring look, and he can see the other’s brow furrow.

“What kind of favours, sir?” he asks carefully.

Dominic swallows down the thick lump that is forming in his throat. “I… would like to sign up to the donated blood programme,” he says quietly, and he watches as Mike’s eyes widen.

“Of course, sir,” he says quickly. “We should’ve expected… I mean… yes, of course you can. I can get that for you right now, sir.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says with a small smile. 

“What’s the other thing, sir?” Mike asks then, and Dominic sighs. 

“I know you have been instructed to chaperone me, but… there is someone I would really like to go and say goodbye to. Privately. If you know what I mean.”

“I do, sir,” Mike says, giving him a calculating look for a moment.

“I’m not going to go, anywhere, Mike,” Dominic says levelly. “I do still need that blood from you, after all.”

Mike looks at him for a moment longer, before saying, “All right, I’ll give you ten minutes. I’ll meet you by the blood storage room, sir.”

“Thank you, Mike,” he says with a small nod towards the man, before he turns and steps through the door. His feet carry him along the familiar corridors without him even consciously thinking about it, and he only hesitates for a second before he pushes open the grey steel door into the primary archive. 

Arthur’s head snaps up from the box he has been filing away, and he gives Dominic a small, sad smile. 

“Sir,” he says, as Dominic slowly walks towards him. “I’m so sorry. I tried to talk him out of it as soon as he mentioned it, but you know what he’s like—”

“Don’t worry, Arthur,” Dominic says with a small smile of his own. “I know you couldn’t have done anything.”

Arthur lets out a deep sigh. “So, what’s happening now, sir?” he asks, and Dominic once again tries to swallow down the persistent lump in his throat.

“I suppose I’ll be looking for alternative work,” he says, giving Arthur a significant look, and Arthur’s face falls.

“I wish things could’ve ended a different way, sir.”

Dominic smiles and looks down. “I know, Arthur. So do I. But it was always going to happen eventually, wasn’t it.”

“I suppose it was, sir,” Arthur says, nodding, and Dominic lets out a breathless chuckle.

“At least you won’t have to put up with catching me and Hal snogging at my desk anymore,” he says, his smile widening at the mock scandalised look on Arthur’s face.

“I never saw anything, sir,” he says, a glint in his eye, and Dominic bursts out laughing.

“Thank you for everything, Arthur,” he says after a long moment, holding out his hand, and the other man shakes it without a second thought.

“It’s been a pleasure, sir,” he says with conviction. “And I wish you and Mr Yorke all the best for the future.”

“Thank you,” Dominic says again, turning back towards the door. “Now, I better go, before Mike comes looking for me,” he adds. “Please give my regards to Maggie.”

“Will do, sir,” Arthur says, and with another quick nod towards the older man, he steps back through the door and makes his way down the corridor towards the storage room, until—

“Hey, where’s your escort?” 

The cold voice behind him makes him stop in his tracks, and he whirls around to come face to face with Adrian, who sneers at him, looking him up and down as he says, “Type 2s aren’t allowed to just wander around here unaccompanied. Where’s your escort?”

Dominic gives him a hard look. “I’m quite capable of finding my own way around, thank you, Adrian.”

“That’s Mr O’Brien to you, you vile creature,” Adrian says, narrowing his eyes at him, and Dominic snorts.

“Not in a million years, Adrian,” he says, before he turns back around and quickly continues on his way. He is vaguely aware of Adrian shouting a few more choice insults his way as he goes, but he doesn’t actually physically stop him, so he keeps walking until he sees Mike waiting for him in front of the blood storage room. The younger man is giving him a nervous look as he watches him approaching, a small box held in his hands. 

“Sir,” he says as Dominic comes to a stop in front of him. He looks distinctly uncomfortable as he continues, “As you are probably aware, we only give out one week’s supply at a time. It is your responsibility to make sure it lasts you all week, as we will not be supplying any more until the agreed date—”

“Yes, I know, Mike, thank you,” Dominic says, eyes flicking back and forth between Mike’s face and the small box in his hands.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says, “but I’m afraid I have to go through the process with you. If, for whatever reason, you find yourself in need of an additional supply, we will need to be given a valid reason, and you will need to—”

“Sign additional paperwork, yes, I’m aware of the process, Mike” Dominic says, impatience creeping into his voice, and Mike blushes and nods.

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.” Dominic’s eyes drift down to the box in his hands once more, and finally, Mike hands it over to him. “There you go, sir.”

Dominic nods and reaches out a hand, clasping the small box tightly, aware of Mike’s wary gaze on him.

“If that’s all, sir, I would ask you to please follow me to the door.”

Dominic sighs, takes one last look around the bleak corridors that used to mean so much to him for so long, and silently follows Mike towards the exit. The heavy bunker door swings open in front of him, and with a deep, shaky breath, he steps through into the light drizzle outside, the damp, cold air creeping into his very bones and making him shiver.

“Mr Rook,” Mike’s voice speaks up behind him once more, and he turns around to see him standing in the doorway, not quite meeting his eyes when he says, “It’s been an honour working with you, sir.”

There is a large lump building in Dominic’s throat, closing off his airway, and he can feel his eyes burning. “Thank you, Mike,” he says, before the door falls shut in front of him.


End file.
